Afterlife
by alisajudd
Summary: Hermione is tragically killed in the final battle and finds that there's more to her life after her earthly one.. Between dealing with her own death and that of friends, she has to deal with a next door neighbour she hates who's just as stubborn as she is. So much for heaven...
1. Chapter 1

**Hey, here's another story I began writing a while back so I thought I'd start posting it (I'll probably continue the other one at some point but I don't like its style)**

As Harry tried unsuccessfully to snatch the wands from Draco's grasp, Draco looked up and saw the angry and scared faces of his family focused on the Golden Trio and the house elf. He knew, as his father threw a strong hex towards them, that they had to escape. If they didn't escape, then nobody could stop the Dark Lord. And if nobody stopped the Dark Lord -

He didn't want to think about it.

While Lucius and Bellatrix were distracted by the house elf, Dobby, Draco rushed towards them and thrust two wands at them, keeping his own, of course.

"You need to get out of here, Potter!" Draco hissed, glancing over his shoulder to make sure his father didn't think he was helping them.

"What?" Weasley growled angrily. He was holding up an unconscious Hermione Granger, who had the word 'Mudblood' carved into her arm and a slit across her throat.

"Get out of here, I said!" Draco repeated. "If you don't get out of here and stop him, nobody will. Go!"

Harry stared at Draco for a moment, which in reality, was a millisecond, before nodding and shouting to Dobby. But whilst Draco's head was turned, Harry snatched his wand from his hand and said, "I appreciate this, Malfoy, but I don't have a wand - and I need one more than you."

Harry believed that in reality, Draco was just a scared little boy born into the wrong family at the wrong time. In fact, if Draco had not been a Malfoy, Harry would bet that he'd actually be a nice guy. But years of power and prejudice had forced him to become something he was not. Harry hoped Malfoy would survive the war; once he was free, Harry could almost imagine becoming friendly with him - if he wasn't just a complete and utter arse, that is.

Draco stood up and backed away, horrified at being separated from his wand. Granger's eyes opened at the sound of his footsteps, her breathing heavy and difficult. Her eyes met his, and she groaned. The elder Malfoy heard her from across the room.

"Draco?" snapped Lucius, spinning to face his son. "What are you doing over there?"

Realisation dawned on the elder Malfoy's gaunt face as his steely eyes flickered between the wands in the trio's hands and his son.

"You - what have you done? You _gave _them wands?" he hissed. "How could you let this happen? You fool!"

Draco shook his blonde head frantically, backing away from his father, who had Narcissa's wand outstretched in his hand. "No, it's not what it looks like, Father, Potter took my wand -"

"Have you _any_ idea what the Dark Lord will do to us once he finds out? Your failure last year has already set us at the bottom of the pile. Anything else and who knows what he could do to us? Get the wands back. Get them back now!"

Draco looked pained; he couldn't disobey his father, and yet he really, really didn't want to obey him. "Father, I -"

"_Get them! Now!_" Lucius yelled coldly. "Or I shall be forced to do something I will regret."

Hermione was waking up more each second, her eyes focusing on the scene unfolding in front of her, her heart hammering in her chest, silently begging Draco not to do as Lucius told them. Bellatrix's feet could be seen sticking out from underneath Dobby's smashed chandelier and Narcissa was beside herself next to it; she could do nothing without her wand.

The trio were waiting for Dobby to return to take them to Shell Cottage after he had to momentarily Apparate out of Lucius' clutches.

Hermione could see Draco's indecision, his discomfort, and that was shown through his stillness - he didn't move. She could see one side of his even whiter than normal face; it looked terrified. _Please, Malfoy,_ she begged in her mind. _Please, let us go so I can sleep. So someone can clear up my arm..._The thought occurred to her that the word Mudblood might show up on her arm forever, but she shivered it away.

"Fine," sneered Lucius, his eyes narrowing. "We can see where your loyalties lie. Oh, the Dark Lord will thank me for this! I will be his favourite. _Avada Kedavra_!"

"No!" yelled Harry at the same time, realisation dawning upon his face.

The moment seemed to slow down to a millionth of its natural speed. As the jet of green light erupted from Lucius' wand, Dobby appeared behind Harry, Ron and Hermione with a crack that could not be heard over the roar of the spell. The light hit Draco in the stomach with such force that he was thrown backwards onto the ground, sliding backwards only to still in front of the trio.

Hermione screamed, tears blurring in her eyes. Draco's head was thrown back, his face filling her vision. His eyes were filled with tears, but the look upon his face made Hermione cry.

He had the look of someone who knew their time was up. He looked defeated. He looked like someone who cried themselves to sleep at night, who wished nothing more to be a completely different person.

It was then that Hermione realised, as she was being Apparated away, that Draco Malfoy was no less that human. She had never stopped to think of what his life had become, surrounded by Voldemort and his followers, because of all the hateful things he said to her. Harry was right; he was just a scared little boy. And he would be that little boy no more.

Draco Malfoy was dead.

As Hermione lay in a rather tiny bed in Shell Cottage, her mind was racing.

At any other point in her life, she would say the death of Draco Malfoy, her childhood bully and tormentor, would bring her some kind of relief. Sure, she still hated his guts, but that look, the last look upon his face, that would haunt her forever.

They were all so young. So young to be fighting in this war. Innocent, and not so innocent, lives were being lost. Death was a constant fear, a bad smell hanging in the air, and to see it so first hand had shocked Hermione into a silence not even Ron could break her from.

Maybe it would have all been different if Tom Riddle had not been introduced to the magical world. Maybe the Slytherins wouldn't be so hostile and unfriendly to the other houses; maybe there would be the inter-house unity that Professor McGonagall and Dumbledore had wanted so badly. Hermione's eyes teared up again as she thought about her old Headmaster. She missed his wisdom, his cleverness, his wit.

It was then she realised she might not make it to the end of this war; who was to know when it would end? It could be years, decades until the end. She knew she certainly wouldn't survive that long - and neither would the wizarding world. She had to be prepared. She had to prepare herself to die, to join Dumbledore, and the other Muggle and magical people who had died at the hands of the Death Eaters.

"I'm ready," she whispered. "I can do this."

**Reviewwwww and the next chapter will be up soon. Also the next chapters are considerably longer. my first chapters always seem to be short**


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks to the really lovely reviews I had! Here's chapter two.. setting context still**

"Hermione, move!" Luna called, pointing to Hermione's left. The wall had been blasted moments before with a dark curse and was seconds from collapsing.

She nodded her thanks at Luna and sped away down the corridor, hoping against hope she wouldn't come across another body.

Seeing the Weasleys grouped around Fred's lifeless body like that had broken her heart. She was very fond of Fred, and George of course, and she couldn't imagine how George was going to carry on without his twin. The two shared laughs, thoughts, movements, sentences, DNA, love. Everything.

Hot tears fell down her dirty face and she swiped at them angrily. Now was _not_ the time to cry. Now was the time to be a brave warrior and show those Death Eaters what for.

But inside, she was just an eighteen year old girl who had been staying too strong for too long. It had always been her that her friends came to for advice. Always her who found the answers, always her who knew all the facts. She was the one to rely on. Plain old reliable Hermione Granger. And as she made it to the entrance hall and stumbled past a broken and bleeding body, not knowing whose side it was from, she broke down.

Seeing her moment of weakness, a masked Death Eater blasted a curse towards her, which missed and hit the wall behind her, exploding it.

"Hermione!" came the frantic voice of Bill, who had seen the encounter.

The dust settled, and nothing could be seen beneath the pile of rubble except for a small, dusty hand. It didn't move.

"Hermione!" called Bill again, wanting to rush forward and help, but the Death Eater who had blasted the wall turned to him and entered into a duel with him. Bill slashed his wand through the air, trying desperately to defeat the Death Eater so he could see if Hermione was ok, but the man behind the mask was an equal match for him. Bill tried to focus his mind away from Hermione and entirely on winning the fight for the time being.

As Hermione tried to open her eyes, she felt as if a tonne of bricks had landed on top of her. And then she realised - it had. She strained her arm against the cold, broken stone and some of it rolled away; she pushed and pushed and more of the brick moved from above her.

When she tried to move her left leg, she had to bite down on her lip to stop from screaming and drawing attention to herself, and felt the taste of blood in her mouth. As she had cleared most of the rubble from on top of her, she looked down, and winced, bile rising from her throat.

The bone in her shin had broken away from her knee joint, and the top was sticking out underneath her knee on the outside. Blood soaked the leg of her jeans, and Hermione knew that she couldn't even feel half the pain she should be because she was numbed with shock; the pain would come ten times worse later.

"Argh!"

She looked up, and Bill was still locked in combat with the masked Death Eater. She clambered to her feet, balancing herself on her right leg, and pointing her wand shakily towards the Death Eater.

"_Petrificus Totalus_!" she cried, and her shoulders sagged with relief as he fell backwards onto the floor, frozen.

"Hermione, you're ok! Thanks for that," Bill sighed, catching his breath from the intense battle. He looked down. "You need to get to Madam Pomfrey."

"I'll head there n-"

She was broken off by a loud, deep laugh.

"Well, well, if it isn't the Mudblood," came the drawling voice. She knew that one anywhere.

Lucius Malfoy stood before her, wand outstretched, and as Bill opened his mouth to speak, Malfoy flicked his wand sideways and Bill slumped to the floor, unconscious. As Hermione gasped, he took his chance.

"_Expelliarmus_," he hissed, and her wand flew out of her hand and into his. "You know, I wanted to be the one to finish you off. Especially after all that happened back at the mansion. You will pay for what you did; you will pay for your lies."

"You killed your own son!" Hermione cried, finding it hard to stay balanced on her right leg, and terrified because she was wandless.

"I - that is regrettable," he said coldly, his eyes becoming steely. "_Crucio_."

Suddenly, Hermione had dropped to the floor, the pain in her leg suddenly increasing tenfold, and it felt as if the rest of the bones in her body were being snapped too. It felt as if she were being pulled apart at the seams, and a terrible scream ripped from her throat.

Lucius laughed as her saw her writhing and twitching on the floor in front of him, but suddenly, his face froze, and Hermione saw Seamus rush past, and surmised that he must have cast the curse without seeing her.

She dragged herself painfully towards Lucius, and took her wand that he had dropped to the floor. She felt so weak, she could barely move. Her leg felt like it was on fire, and as she slowly pulled herself towards Bill's form, she looked back and saw a trail of blood following her every move. She had lost a lot, and her head was feeling dizzy.

Because her leg was useless, she was pulling her whole weight with just her arms, and as she outstretched them once more, they wobbled, and then collapsed under her. The Crucio had left her weaker than ever, and she dropped her chin to the floor in defeat.

"_Enervate_," she whispered, pointing her wand towards Bill, just as Ginny came rushing around the corner.

"Hermione, Bill," she gasped, looking at the blood that surrounded Hermione. Bill stood up, seemingly unharmed.

"I - tired, leg hurts," Hermione mumbled, black dots jumping around in front of her eyes, clogging up her brain, tuning out her hearing.

"We've got to get her to Madam Pomfrey, Bill, right now," Ginny cried, rushing forward as Hermione's eyes closed.

Everybody in the Great Hall, whether they were sobbing, wincing, comforting or talking, stopped what they were doing when Bill walked through the door with Hermione in his arms, Ginny hot on his tail.

"She needs help!" Ginny called to the room at large, scanning for Madam Pomfrey.

The matron rushed forth from the crowds of injured and crouched to the floor as Bill set Hermione down. She began muttering spells underneath her breath, her wand waving so fast it was a blur.

So, Hermione thought, this is what it's like to die. To be honest, she had lost all her senses, and couldn't tell what was going on around her. She couldn't feel pain any more, and she could hear soft music playing in the background somewhere, a slow, mournful melody. Images appeared in her mind - it's true, she thought, your life does flash before your eyes. The last thing she saw was her, Ron and Harry hugging one last time before battle, and then everything went a bright white, and she thought no more.

"What's going on?"came a gruff voice from behind the gathering crowd, breaking the heavy silence.

"Oh, Ron," said Ginny sadly.

Ron faltered as he pushed his way to the front of the crowd and his eyes fell upon Hermione's unconscious form. Her eyelids were fluttering, her cheeks pale and cold sweat was dripping down her face.

"Hermione," he breathed, dropping to his knees next to her and taking her face in his hands. He shook her gently, but she didn't wake. Tears pricked his eyes as his heart raced desperately.

Madam Pomfrey shook her head in disbelief as none of her spells worked. The girl was just too weak...

"I'm so sorry," she said, silently weeping. "I can't do anything else..."

"_No!_" roared Ron, shaking Hermione violently in his arms.

"Hermione!" Ginny sobbed, dropping to the floor beside Ron.

The crowd around, mainly students, remained silent, apart from the cries and sobs that could not be held back. One of their idols, one of the Golden Trio, one of their hopes, one of their friends, was laying dead in front of their eyes.

For one Hufflepuff girl, it was too much. She rushed off behind one of the stacked house tables and she could be heard retching. One of her friends went to join her, to comfort her.

During the next few minutes, Voldemort temporarily held off the battle in order for Harry Potter to go to him in the Forest. More and more injured were entering the hall and when Mr and Mrs Weasley, still distraught from the death of Fred, saw another of their sons holding the dead form of the girl who was like another daughter to them, they rushed through and grouped around her like she really was another Weasley.

Soon everybody who was battling was stood around the heartbreaking scene - all except one...

Harry was striding purposefully towards the front doors of Hogwarts castle when he glanced into the Great Hall and saw a large circle of people, many with their shoulders shaking or arms wrapped round one another, so he decided to take a detour. Gently edging his way through the crowd, he pushed to the front and stopped breathing.

**Review and the next chapter will be up soon**


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter three.. getting there**

When Hermione opened her eyes, she found herself staring at a clear blue sky. The sun beat down on her face and a summer breeze whipped her hair around as she sat up.

A meadow. Long grass, tipped with yellow and white flowers. Pollen swirling through the air. A bird, swooping low and soaring away.

She stood up. Her leg was fine, her body was fine. She was back to normal. Maybe - maybe it had all been a dream? Was she still with Ron and Harry? She looked around for a sign of their tent, but saw nothing.

No - she did see something. Far, far in the distance... A lone figure, stood beneath a large oak tree. They looked pretty lost.

Hermione, ignoring all instinct that this could be something dark, that it could be a trap, began to run as fast as she could towards the oak tree. She got a stitch, but ignored it. The ground was uneven and she twisted her ankles a few times, but she ignored it. She just kept on running, her feet pounding rhythmically into the ground with each step.

As the oak tree and the figure came closer, she recognised them instantly, and ran even faster, stopping abruptly about a metre in front of them, staring into their face like it was some kind of angel.

They were both just stood, staring at one another, looking equally lost, equally confused, Hermione out of breath. And suddenly, they were both crying, clinging to one another like lifelines.

"Oh Fred," Hermione sniffed, wiping her eyes on his shoulder. "I thought you were gone forever. I thought you were dead."

Fred pulled away from the hug and looked down at her seriously. "I think I am, Hermione. I am dead. And I think you are too."

"But then - where are we?" she stuttered, and then burst into tears again. "I don't want to be dead, I want to go back and fight in the battle and -"

Suddenly, the air changed, and she was still crying hysterically, but Fred was gone, and so was the meadow. She was sat on a patch of grass in the middle of a group of pleasant-looking white stone buildings. People were walking past, laughing and chatting, a few sending sympathetic smiles and glances her way but no-one paying real attention.

Hermione didn't see this at all. She was laying on her front, her head buried in her folded arms, and was sobbing her heart out. She was dead. She was gone. She would never see Harry, or Ron, or Neville, or Ginny, or the other Weasleys, or Luna ever again. She wouldn't even get to see what happened in the final battle - who won...

"Miss Granger?" came a soft, soothing voice. "Miss Granger, you must come with us."

Hermione, still sobbing, was lifted under each arm by two people and they carried her this way across the grassy courtyard and toward one of the white buildings.

"No!" she cried, dragging her feet on the floor. "Let me go back! I need to go back and fight, I need to help Harry kill Voldemort -"

The people holding her did not loosen their grip, nor did they respond to her begging. Hermione tried to look up, but her eyes were blurry with tears. The only thing she saw before she was dragged through the door to the white building was a blonde-haired man, sat on a bench in the courtyard, watching her sadly.

The door slammed and she was dropped onto a sofa in front of a large desk. A beautiful woman sat behind the desk, with golden hair that fell in ringlets around her shoulders. She had a kind, pale face and a sad little smile.

"Miss Granger. Welcome to Heaven - well, sort of."

"I - what? Heaven? I can't be dead, please let me go back! I need to help, I need to see what happened at the battle! I need to fight, to help the Order!"

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger, but there's nothing we can do. You can't go back. Please, calm down," she added, seeing that Hermione was about to cry out once more. "I need to explain everything to you. Let me do my job, Miss Granger, and then you can cry all you want."

The woman did not say this nastily, but she did say it firmly. Hermione nodded and slumped back into her seat, folding her arms and looking at the woman impatiently.

"This is the place where most people come immediately after they've died. You will live here for a year - it's just like your previous human life - except there's only people who have died here. You'll get your own apartment in one of our two blocks. You can also visit earth -" Hermione's head shot up "- but nobody will be able to see you. You'll be like a ghost, but you can only be seen by other ghosts, not humans." Hermione's head slumped back against the chair again.

"This sucks," she muttered.

The woman chose to ignore her. "It's not advisable to spend too long down on Earth. Once your year is up, you will get the choice to return to Earth, as a ghost that all can see, or to go on."

"Go on?"

"Well, yes. You know, to heaven. Occasionally, we allow residents to stay, for as long as they wish. This is often due to exceptional circumstances. This does not happen very often, but one resident currently lives here by this rule."

Hermione wanted to scream in frustration. The clock sitting to the left of the woman's desk was ticking incessantly loud. The woman's patronising voice drilled through her like it was an ear-splitting scream. She had to leave the office before she hexed the woman's simpering smile off her face.

"I want to go to my apartment. Now," she demanded angrily.

"Yes, of course, Miss Granger," the woman said snootily, ignoring Hermione's anger, which infuriated her even more.

A small man appeared in the corner of the room and ordered her to follow him. She did so, reluctantly, and was lead back out of the building, across the courtyard - she avoided looking up, for she knew she had made a spectacle of herself earlier - and towards another huge, towering white building.

The small man spoke for the first time. He was no taller than 4 feet, and was plump and rounded. He had a glistening bald patch on the back of his head and seemed to be slightly out of breath. He was rifling through a wad of papers, muttering curses under his breath.

"I've checked yer apartment, Miss Granger, and it seems yeh'll know at least 3 other people in this apartment block. Here's yer key, have fun." He sounded like he'd never had fun in his life.

He disappeared with an irritated _crack_ and left Hermione stood in shock at the front doors, holding a little golden key with the number 6/13 engraved on the front. She took this to mean floor 6, room 13, so she pushed open the glass doors to the building and stepped into the lift.

The lift didn't smell like urine, or have graffiti up the walls, or have broken buttons, like the ones she was used to. It was clean, it was perfect. She briefly wondered if everything up here was perfect, and then where _up here_ was, but then the lift doors opened, and she stepped out into a long, wide corridor, dotted with large wooden doors.

Immediately her eyes fell upon a man stood at the end of the corridor, fiddling with the lock on his door. His dark hair was soft and wavy, and his handsome face was full and clean. So _this_ is the resident living by the exceptional rule, thought Hermione.

She yelled his name, but he didn't seem to hear, so she called it again, and before she knew it, she was hurrying towards him. He looked up at the sound of his name, and a shocked look fell upon his face as he dropped a screwdriver to the floor and stood up, his arms outstretched.

"Hermione!" he breathed, as she flung herself into his arms. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Sirius held her back at arms' length and searched her face. He couldn't believe she was here. She wasn't meant to be here! She was meant to stay, to live on, like Harry and Ron -

"Is anybody else coming?" he asked, a serious look passing over his face.

"Yes," she muttered, looking to her feet, eyes welling up. "Fred Weasley. And - and Tonks, and oh Merlin, Sirius, I'm so sorry - Remus."

She let out a strangled sob and Sirius fell against the wall in a daze, sliding down to the bottom. Another of his best friends had joined him. No more Marauders remained. Not even backstabbing Pettigrew.

"Remus," he whispered, staring ahead of him. He got up suddenly. "I'm sorry, I've got to go and find him."

Hermione nodded, and watched as Sirius sprinted into the lift at the other end of the corridor. She looked down again sadly, and then wondered why the hell Sirius had a Muggle toolbox with him. She felt in her pockets for her wand, and her heart began to race in panic when she realised it wasn't there.

"You won't find it," came a soft female voice. Hermione spun round and saw a small woman with a pretty face and mousy brown hair poking her head out of Room 14. "I'm Zena, by the way. Yeah, we're not allowed to do magic here. We don't have wands. Everything is done the Muggle way."

Hermione's jaw literally dropped open. She certainly hadn't been expecting that! She smiled as she thought of how the purebloods would fare with this rule - and then realised that most purebloods were Slytherins and that they'd probably gone straight to hell.

Zena laughed. "Don't look so shocked. What's your blood status?"

"Er, Muggleborn..." Hermione said, suspiciously, wondering if this was a Slytherin.

"Me too!" Zena smiled knowingly. "I was a Hufflepuff. It's considerably easier for us to live without magic, then, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess it is," said Hermione, her brain going into overdrive.

"Anyway, are you moving into number 13? It's been empty for ages!" At Hermione's nod, she grinned again. "Cool! You're right opposite me! Anyway, I've got to go, I've got a cake in the oven. Be sure to ask me if you need anything. Cya!"

Hermione was a little stunned to the spot. Zena reminded her of a toned-down version of Luna, and it was somehow comforting to her. She smiled for the first time as she fitted her key into the lock of Room 13 and opened the door.

**Review and the next chapter will be up soon**


	4. Chapter 4

**Four.. Hermione gets to know her environment.. good and bad points! Thanks for the lovely reviews!**

Immediately she spotted the large, luxurious bed on the left side of the room. The covers were a bright white, as were the walls, and Hermione found herself squinting at the brightness.

The room made her feel a little ill, because every single thing inside it was white - except the TV. _What?_ she thought. _Wait a minute... _Then she realised - because magic wasn't allowed here, then she presumed that Muggle electricity would work, because it wouldn't be interfered with by the magic.

The long, heavy curtains covering the floor-length French windows were white. As she opened them, she saw a reasonably-sized balcony in front of her, help up underneath by supporting poles. From this height, she could see past the other buildings. There was a large green belt around the collection of structures, and then, past that, everything blurred into a pale grey colour and she couldn't make out anything at all. Maybe there _was_ nothing.

As she turned back into her room, she saw two doors which she hadn't noticed before. Again, painted white, one lead into a shiny, clean bathroom, complete with shower and large bathtub, and the other into a shiny, clean kitchen, complete with Muggle appliances and even a fridge.

Hermione smiled, and as she walked out into the main room she spotted a note on the desk where her TV stood.

_Miss Granger,_

_Your room is, as you have probably noticed, incredibly white - but that's because it's up to you to decorate!_

_At the bottom of your building, once you're outside, you'll see a row of shops - one of them will provide you with what you need for decorating. Another will provide you with fabrics etcetera._

_Get busy!_

_H. Judd, Head of Department of Communications_

They even had a Ministry! Hermione, with the note in her hand, left her room immediately, because the white was stinging her eyes.

Feeling a sense of freedom for having her own apartment, Hermione smiled as she locked the door and strolled down the corridor.

She was Hermione Granger, independent woman. Her smile faltered; Hermione Granger, dead woman.

Blinking again as she stepped out into the sunlight, Hermione put a hand to her forehead to shield her eyes and squinted around, trying to find the shops. She noticed them almost immediately, to her right, and she felt another smile creep up her face as she approached.

They were so _clean_. No graffiti, no litter. No teenagers hanging around with cider bottles. Just neatly painted shop fronts with impeccable window displays.

She stepped into one shop and found herself faced with a wall covered in every single colour you could ever imagine. Tiny squares of each colour filled the wall, in colour order, creating a strange kind of rainbow. She stared up in awe, trying to think in her head what colours she wanted for her room... She could have red, like Gryffindor... But she really didn't want to bring up those memories again.

She went into the next shop before she decided anything, to see if she would find any fabrics she could base her colour scheme around - and found one immediately. A throw, obviously brought back from Africa, in deep earth colours. It was a dark, rich, leafy green, with deep browns, yellows and reds embroidered onto it, making patterns and shapes.

She took it to the counter and the kind lady behind the desk found her some matching curtains and duvet and cushion covers. Back in the paint shop, she found a rusty yellow and a dark green.

"Zena!" she called, banging on the door to Room 14. "Zeeeeeeeeeeeena!"

The door opened suddenly, and Hermione had to stop herself from accidentally punching Zena in the face. "Hi!" Zena smiled. "What's up?"

"Fancy giving me a hand?" Hermione smiled sheepishly, holding up a tin of paint.

"Sure!" Zena grinned, grabbing her keys and stepping out the door. "I'm in rubbish clothes anyway, so I don't care if they get paint on them."

Hermione had decided to paint 3 walls the rusty yellow colour, and then have the wall behind the bed the tribal green colour. _Merlin, I should have been an interior designer_, she thought, giggling. She was broken out of her reverie by music - _Muggle music_ - and turned to see Zena fiddling with a radio she hadn't noticed before.

"Is this _ABBA?_" Hermione asked incredulously, wondering why they were still playing things from so long ago.

"I think so!" said Zena, with a giggle. "Come on, let's get started!"

And so they got busy. While Zena sorted out the paint and brushes, Hermione moved all the furniture to the middle of the room (she needed help from Zena with the bed), and flopped upon the bed moments later, exhausted.

"Oh no you don't!" Zena laughed, pulling her back up. "It's paint time!"

The radio station must have been having an oldies day, because so many classics came up that Zena and Hermione couldn't help dancing and singing along while they were painting.

Hermione felt a splat across her cheek, and looked up to see Zena grinning mischievously, holding her paintbrush aloft.

"Right, that's it!" Hermione grinned, flinging her own paintbrush at Zena.

The sun outside moved across the sky, and Hermione noticed that her balcony was facing in the perfect direction to see the beautiful sunset.

"Well, I'm spent," Zena sighed. "There's only that little bit left, right?"

Hermione only had to paint along a tiny section above the skirting board, and she would be finished. "Don't worry, I'll finish this bit. Go clean up, you smell!"

Zena threw her head back in laughter as she stepped out of the door. Crouching back on the floor, Hermione made sure she was slowly and delicately filling in the white gap they had left for a smaller brush.

Suddenly, a huge thumping erupted from the next room, and it was all Hermione could do not to smudge the paint - she fell back and her hand landed right into the paint bucket.

She stood up furiously, wiped her hand of the excess paint, and stormed out of her door.

"Oi!" she shouted angrily, a curl falling out of the bun on her head and falling in her eyes, which irritated her even more as she tried to blow it away. She was pounding on the door of whoever was in Room 11, trying to make them hear her over the ridiculously loud music.

All of a sudden, the door flew open, and she started yelling immediately.

"Do you think you could turn that shit down? I'm trying to do something next door and all I can hear is -"

She stopped abruptly. The person facing her pressed a button on their remote and the music stopped. Hermione's mouth was hanging open in total and utter shock.

"Oh _hell_ no," she growled, smacking the palm of her hand against the door frame.

"Why is your hand green?" the man asked.

"Because I was painting, and then your music started and I - oh never mind that, what the hell are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the very same question."

She looked up into Draco's face. His white-blonde hair was falling in his eyes, which were an icy grey. The malice she had seen in them once was gone, and nothing replaced it. His eyes showed nothing. He was still incredibly pale, and his frame was still thin but toned, from what she could see.

"It's pretty obvious, isn't it?" Hermione snapped. "I died. Keep the music down."

She turned then, finding herself with tears in her eyes as she was once more reminded that she wasn't going home, she wasn't going to see Harry and Ron later, and she wasn't going to see Harry and Ron at all.

She registered Malfoy calling her name as she pushed her door open, but she ignored him, and after she slammed the door shut, she burst into tears.

**Please leave a review! They make me happy and therefore spur me on to write further chapters ;)**


	5. Chapter 5

**Here's the next chapter!**

"Hermione, open up!" came a cheerful voice through the door.

Hermione groaned, all snuggled up in her duvet. She was so warm she didn't want to take it off, so she rolled off the bed and shuffled to the door.

When she opened it she was met with a roar of laughter and a grin from Sirius.

"How the hell do you know which room was mine?" she muttered, rubbing her eyes with one of her palms. "Merlin, Sirius, do you know how early it is?"

"Draco told me," Sirius said. "And yes, it's half twelve in the afternoon."

"Oh!" Hermione said, embarrassed at being caught sleeping in so late. Then her eyebrows shot down in confusion. "_'Draco'_?"

Sirius shrugged. "What can I say? We're related, and I've gotten to know him recently. He's a good man. Anyway, I need your help."

Hermione invited him in and put the duvet back on the bed, thankful she was wearing large pajamas. It was Sirius, after all.

He sunk himself into her sofa (now complete with the African throw) and rubbed his forehead tiredly, and looked like he was contemplating speech.

"I'll get straight to it," Sirius sighed. In just one brief moment, before he spoke again, he looked so old; the light lines on his face were somehow deepened and Hermione could have sworn his hair, though still black and shiny, had grey streaks in it. Then, as he opened his mouth and looked up, it disappeared, and he looked youthful as ever.

"It's Fred. I went to see him earlier, he's on the second floor. Not getting up. Not moving. He's lost, Hermione. He needs George. It's like half of him has been torn away, and he doesn't know what to do without it."

Silent tears fell down Hermione's cheeks. "What can _I _do? I'm not George."

"I know, I know, and please stop crying, you're making me feel bad."

He received a teary giggle from Hermione before she perched on the edge of her bed and wiped away her tears with her sleeve. Sirius took this as a cue to continue.

"I'm asking you, because I know you'll be so much better than me at helping him. You have the patience, the kindness. I'd end up losing my temper. All I'm asking is for you to talk to him at least once a day. Have lunch or tea with him, maybe, or something. Try and get him to open up his feelings. Talking about it only helps. Trust me, I - well. I know it's hard for you too, and maybe you can talk to him about yourself too. And you can always talk to me, if you need to," he added as an afterthought.

"Of course I'll do it, Sirius. You knew before you asked that I would do it, didn't you?"

He smirked and stood up, flicking something towards Hermione that she only just caught with the tips of her fingers. "Of course I did. Here's a copy of his key, in case he won't get up. Thanks for doing this, Hermione."

He ruffled her curly hair as he walked past, and there was a soft click as he left the room.

Hermione fell back onto her pillows as the gut-wrenching reality overtook her again. She'd been planning on re-tiling the bathroom today, in some other colour than that wretched white, but Fred seemed so much more important. Besides, she had no idea how to re-tile a bathroom and had no tools. Perhaps Sirius would have some.

"Fred?"

She knocked gently. There was no answer. She knocked again, this time harder, and still no answer. After she'd knocked a third time, so loudly she'd hurt her knuckles, she knew he must be awake but not answering. She sighed, and unlocked the door with the key Sirius gave her.

Fred was buried under the duvet in the bed, and she could only see one of his long legs poking out of the bottom. He was wearing the paisley pajamas he and George always wore identically.

She sat beside him, unsure of what to do. Pulling back the covers from his head, her eyes found his red, blotchy face and tired, sad eyes, and she felt herself burst into tears.

"I'm so sorry," she sobbed. "I wish we were still there, I wish we could go back, but I asked, and we can't, and -"

Fred, who had not moved the entire time, slowly reached out a hand from under the covers and pulled Hermione down to meet him in the most emotional hug she'd ever received; they were both just so full of grief.

They lay together for what felt like at least two hours, until neither of them were crying any more because it was just physically impossible. Fred had still not spoken a word, which scared Hermione slightly, but she felt she could always come back the next day and work on it a bit more.

"I need to go, Fred," she said softly. "I'm on floor six, Room 13, if you need me, ok?"

He blinked in acknowledgement and she sighed as she got up.

"I'm so sorry, Freddie," she whispered again as she slipped out of the door.

She was shaking all the way up to the sixth floor in the lift, for what reason she didn't know. Her fingers shook as she tried to press the button and she had to take a deep breath to calm herself.

Even with the slow, deep breathing, her legs still felt like jelly as she walked up the corridor, and she frowned as she saw Malfoy stood outside her front door.

He was stood awkwardly, with one of his hands in his pocket and the other, which had evidently just knocked on the door, running through his tousled hair.

"Looking for me?" she said, somewhat unfriendly. Why shouldn't she be?

He jumped slightly, obviously not expecting her to come up behind him like that, then turned to face her and she frowned again at his nervousness. Just what did he want?

"I - er, yeah, actually," he said, his hand still fiddling with his hair. "Are - are you ok?"

Hermione laughed incredulously. "_Am I ok?_ I've just died, and that wasn't particularly nice, to tell the truth, it wasn't a barrel of laughs, and I'll never see my best friends or my boyfriend or my parents ever again, and I'm stuck up here with nothing to do and _you_ as my next-door neighbour. Do you _think_ I'm ok?"

Malfoy's pale eyes were widened with some kind of mixture of fear, shock and something resembling hurt. It nearly made Hermione laugh again, as if he thought he deserved her friendship, but then he spoke.

"I just meant - your face, it's all red. You've been crying." It wasn't a question.

"Oh," she muttered, after an awkward pause. "Yes, I'm ok. I am now. What do you want?" she added, pushing past him slightly to poke her key into the keyhole and open her door. Despite having laid on Fred's bed for hours, she felt exhausted.

"I wanted to talk to you," he said, this time clear about what he wanted to say.

Hermione raised her eyebrows, but left her door open as she went inside. He hesitated for a moment, staring down at his pale hand, before following and closing the door.

They both stood awkwardly in the middle of the room, a good distance apart, neither wanting to sit. Hermione was staring at Draco expectantly, her arms folded as if impatient. He sighed and closed his eyes.

He knew she would be like this.

"I've - I've just come to apologise. I know it's probably not something that you need to hear, but I need to do it."

"_Apologise?_" Hermione cried. "You've got a bloody nerve! How dare you come here as if you're all that and apologise? If you think it's going to fix everything, you're very much mistaken!"

"Did I say that it was going to fix everything?" he snapped, his sudden change in demeanour surprising Hermione so that her face was less angry. "I told you, I just need to say it! Stop being such a little miss prissy and let me get on with it!"

Hermione laughed coldly. "Oh yes, because you're really going to get me to do what you want by talking to me like that, aren't you?"

"Why do you always have to be like this? You complain that I was horrible to you, which I was, and as soon as I try and apologise you moan - again! I can't win. You know, I think you just like hating everything I do. Well, carry on."

Hermione's face screwed up in confusion and contempt. "Well -" she began.

"Save it," Malfoy called lazily over his shoulder as he strolled from the room.

She growled in annoyance as he slammed the door shut after him. She heard another slam seconds later as he entered his own room, and then something that sounded suspiciously like "For fuck's sake!"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. Draco Malfoy was up to something.

**Ooh, what's he up to? Review and the next chapter will be up soon.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Thank you all for the lovely reviews! :) **

When Hermione woke up the next morning, she just couldn't get herself up. It was like her bed had its own gravitational pull and she couldn't force herself away. She decided a day wrapped up in her duvet feeling sorry for herself was in order.

She was _dead_. As in no longer alive. She just couldn't get her head around it. As soon as she began to make sense of it, memories from her time at Hogwarts would flood her mind.

_She entered the large Entrance Hall and looked around in awe. Of course, she had researched all about the castle beforehand, but you cannot express in writing the sheer size of it. She glanced with a small smile at the other children around her. It was clear to see which were Muggles like herself and which came from magical families; the Harry Potter boy she had met on the train had his mouth hanging open and had to be nudged by his ginger friend - Ronald, was it? - to shut it again. To her right, a pale boy with white-blonde hair and a smug look upon his face was stood with his arms crossed and two rather large, chubby boys either side of him._

_He crossed in front of Hermione and she saw him speak to Harry Potter, and hold out his hand, which Harry rejected coolly. Hermione grinned at the sight of the blonde boy's face and he glared at her as he was chivvied along by Professor McGonagall. As they made their way into the Great Hall, Hermione felt herself being pushed and nearly fell._

_"You'd better watch yourself," the boy sneered. "You're a Muggleborn, aren't you?I can tell just by looking at you."_

_He looked down at her with distaste and the two boys either side of him chuckled gruffly. "As I said, watch yourself. You wouldn't want to end up looking even uglier than you already are, would you?"_

_And with that he swept past her with his head held high to make it to the front of the group and stand before the Sorting Hat as if he was of great importance. Hermione's heart was beating fast through fear. Of course they wouldn't hurt her - would they? She had no idea who they were. The boy had called her ugly - she did not care for looks and beauty, but to be told so cruelly... She did not want this boy to be here, whatever his name was._

Hermione couldn't believe she still remembered that. Her very first day. A pivotal point in her life, the day everything changed and her new life began. How could a boy she had never met before, a boy just 11 years old, be so cruel and degrading?

She heard loud music coming from Malfoy's room again. Why did he need to play it so loud? She couldn't hear a thing over its incessant droning.

Maybe that was the point.

_"My God, does she even know what a hairbrush is?" said Malfoy in stage-whisper to Goyle and Pansy Parkinson. _

_Hermione pushed her head even closer to the parchment on her desk to hide her burning face and continue with Flitwick's Charms theory work. It wasn't her fault her hair was such a difficulty. She was far too busy doing all her homework and reading in the library to spend lots of time on her appearance._

_"I don't think she even knows what a mirror is," Parkinson cackled back. "Look, her nose is about to hit the parchment!"_

_Hermione sat up suddenly and span around to glare at the Slytherins. They continued laughing at her as she narrowed her eyes and sighed in irritation. _

_"Will you please be quiet? Some of us are actually trying to work here," she sneered._

_"As if you need to do any more work," scoffed Parkinson. "You do twice as much as anyone else already! Freak."_

_Hermione bristled. "At least I know how to do it, Parkinson. I'm led to believe you'll be forever stupid."_

_Pansy's jaw fell open in shock and Hermione turned back to her work, smirking. She heard laughter again and looked up, but it was Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, who had turned to watch the confrontation, and they were laughing at Pansy Parkinson's face. Hermione smiled and Harry gave her a thumbs-up._

_Hermione had not made any friends as yet, but she was working on Harry and Ron. She just seemed to bump into them wherever she went, and although Ron was sometimes a little nasty to her, she hoped that one day, they would be her friends. Ron was not as nasty as that Draco Malfoy._

7 years.

7 years had passed and yet Hermione's hatred for Malfoy ran as deep as it ever did. She found herself surprised to have tears on her cheeks reliving the memories and decided she needed to clear her head. Next time she went out she would have to enquire about getting herself a Pensieve.

That was what she was trying to think about in the first place, her death. As far as she remembered, the death itself was bloody awful. Her leg had snapped and she bled to death. Her life was literally drained out of her and there was nothing she could do about it. All because of Malfoy.

Not Draco this time. His fucking father. He'd killed his own son and then killed her as well. As if she were some sort of consolation for having to kill his son. As if it were her fault because she was escaping his torture house.

Hermione couldn't take wallowing in her own pity any more. She jumped off the bed, still in her pyjamas, still wrapped in her duvet, and left her apartment. Her bare feet padded softly along the corridor, and she didn't have to worry about getting into the lift with no shoes on because these were clean and lavishly decorated - they even had carpeted floors.

Sirius was getting out of the lift as she approached and he looked at her with a mixture of questioning and amusement. "Do you ever take that thing off?" he grinned.

Hermione laughed shakily, still emotional. "No," she said. "I'm beginning to think it's going to be a permanent fixture."

Sirius laughed and waved as he strolled away and the doors pinged shut in front of Hermione's eyes. She kept going until she reached Fred's door and knocked loudly.

There was no answer. She went to take her copy of his key out and realised she hadn't brought it with her in the first place. She groaned in utter frustration and knocked again, even louder.

"Fred, let me in please," she pleaded, sounding like a small child begging for sweets. "I know you're awake, it's 5 in the afternoon."

There was no answer, and Hermione couldn't deal with having to go all the way back to her apartment and getting the key. She moaned again but it came as more of a half-sob. She was still torn up because of her over-thinking. She made a mental note not to stay in bed all day and to keep herself busy so she wouldn't do it again.

"Fred, let me in," she called desperately. "I can't bear it down there trapped in my own mind and thinking about the past. I forgot your key. Don't make me go back down there."

The door stayed closed but she couldn't hear anything because tears started to fall from her eyes and she sniffled. "I'm in a fucking duvet and my pyjamas, let me in!" She called, leaning her forehead on the door and banging it repeatedly.

Suddenly, the door opened and she nearly fell flat on her face. Fred looked down at her, his face pale and dry, as if he could no longer cry because he'd run out of tears. Hermione knew that she too must have looked a mess, in her duvet and with messy hair and tears streaming down her face. In fact, she must have looked hilarious.

Fred managed a small one-sided smile at her appearance before standing back to let her pass.

Hermione followed him in and dropped her duvet on his sofa, before wiping her face with tissue and asking him if he wanted tea. He had sat down at the dining table, chin in his hands, staring out of the window.

"Sure," he said dully.

Hermione's stomach felt like there was a lead weight stuck at the bottom. This situation was just plain awful. Here were she and Fred, dead, and they were having to come to terms with it, and then there would be the people they left behind. George. Harry. Ron.

She couldn't bear to think of it again and switched the kettle on.

**I'm back at 6th form and my exams are coming up so I'll be busy, but I'll try and get as many chapters as I can done at the weekends :) Review review review!**

**Next chapter.. Have you ever thought about going to your own funeral?**


	7. Chapter 7

**This is a slightly bigger chapter than normal.. Hermione deals with her own death.**

**Also I forgot to do a disclaimer, so here is one now.. All content belongs to J. K. Rowling (except my aspects of the plot)**

Hermione had managed to get Fred to say a few things over their cup of tea, but not about George. In fact, they talked about anything _but_ George; the weather, how nice Hermione had made Fred's tea, how Hermione hadn't put enough milk in hers (so she got up to rectify it).

"I'm going to go, Fred," Hermione said. "I think you need - some time alone. Or sleep."

Fred nodded and gave her a brief hug goodbye before shuffling off into his room. Hermione sighed and folded her duvet under her arms before making her way back down to her own place. As soon as she entered she noticed an envelope had been pushed under the door. She picked it up curiously, and when she saw the official-looking writing on the front she tore it open as fast as she could.

10 minutes later she was still laid on her back on her bed staring at the ceiling, the letter hanging limply from her fingers.

Her funeral. She hadn't even thought about that. What about Fred? Had he been to his yet? Maybe they were at the same time. Maybe they -

She had to stop thinking about it. The funeral was tomorrow. She didn't even know what she had to do to get there. Was it that thing the patronising woman had said about going down to earth as a kind of half-ghost? Hermione re-read the letter to see if it said anything else. Sure enough, it did, and folding it up carefully and placing it on her bedside table, Hermione's eyes fell shut and she entered a darkened sleep.

Following the instructions of the letter, Hermione had left her apartment block and travelled across the green quad she had first arrived on to a large shell of a building with nothing inside. She entered cautiously and stood in the middle for a moment, before a chill wind fluttered around her feet and suddenly the ground opened up and pulled her downwards like a vacuum.

Hermione's heart was fluttering so much she thought it might stop at some point soon (if that were even possible). She'd had some trouble figuring out what she should wear (what does one wear to one's own funeral?), and it took her some time to realise she had the same clothes 'up here' as she did.. well, 'down there'. And then she realised nobody would see her anyway, and her heart broke a little more.

She was brought out of her reverie by landing rather ungracefully on what seemed to be a patch of grass. Just as she was getting up, she heard a heart-wrenching cry and span around to catch the source. Her mother and father, dressed in black, were entering the church, but it seemed as if her mother were reluctant to go in - she wanted it all to be a dream.

"Mum!" Hermione called, rushing forward to grab her, touch her, hug her, anything she could - but as she put her hand on her mother's arm, it vanished straight through her. _Fucking damn being a ghost! _Hermione thought to herself angrily. This was crazy. She was at her own funeral!

Nothing could have prepared her for what was in store when she entered the building. Masses and masses of people, like a sea of blackness, and she felt as if she would drown if she stayed much longer. Every single person she'd ever met seemed to be in there - but her eyes were drawn to the front row, searching for the two heads of her lovely boys.

When she saw them her heart dropped out of her stomach. Harry was sat slumped, unmoving with his eyes glazed over and a vacant expression on his face. It was as if he'd run out of emotions. And Ron, her Ron - she didn't even want to look at him. His knees were up by his head and his face was buried in them. His shoulders shook with uncontrollable sobs and tears dripped onto the cold stone floor beneath him.

"This is like a terrifying nightmare," Hermione whispered, tears spilling from her eyes as she sat in between her best friends.

A blast like a foghorn went off behind her and she jumped a mile, spinning around only to be faced with the blubbering wreck that was Rubeus Hagrid. Immediately she jumped up and went to console him, only to find that her hand moved through him as if she did not exist. Well she didn't.

"Ladies and gentlemen, we are here today to celebrate the life of a beautiful, clever and brave girl close to many people's hearts..."

Hermione turned and saw the man who conducted Dumbledore's funeral stood at the front of the church next to a coffin.

A coffin. _Her_ coffin. She hadn't noticed that before. It was a shiny, dark wood, and the lid lay open, although she could not see anything from her position next to the sniffling Hagrid. Slowly, as the man continued to talk, Hermione walked towards it. She glanced over her shoulder every few steps, checking to make sure that nobody really could see her, and cautiously peered forward into the coffin.

She wanted to vomit. It was her. She was lying there peacefully, without a scratch on her. Clearly they'd healed her up before sending her down into the ground (whoever 'they' were), and Hermione couldn't care less. She was soon to be 6 feet under, although she was really living 6 miles upwards, and she was going to be forgotten by everyone who would eventually move on and live a life without her.

She was broken out of her thoughts by everyone standing, and as a wave of renewed sobbing and cries was thrust upon her, Hermione realised how selfish she was being. Of course it was hard for her, there was no denying that, but these people were also having to come to terms with never seeing her face again. At least she could still see them, even if she couldn't speak to them or get them to see her.

"Please stop crying, Ron," she begged, as his face simply crumpled up and he fell desperately back onto his seat. She reached out to wipe away his tears and found that once again, she couldn't. She growled angrily and looked around in desperation. She ran to Harry, and tried to hug him to no avail, and so swung her fist in frustration. She flinched in anticipation of the contact with the person behind her, but none came as her hand simply flew through them.

Hermione let out a cry of frustration. "This isn't _fair_!" she cried, twisting around to face them all as they carried her coffin outside. "Listen to me! I'm right _here_! Look. I can see you all! I can see you, Mum and Dad, and Harry, and - oh Ron, _please_ stop crying - will someone please LISTEN TO ME?"

Nothing. Nobody replied, and Hermione had no choice but to follow them outside, tears streaming down her face and blurring her vision so she could barely see where she was going.

She could barely hear the people around her speaking, and as the coffin was lowered into the ground, Hermione seemed to come back to reality and looked around wild-eyed, as if expecting someone to say "Don't be silly, what are you doing? That's Hermione, you're burying her alive!"

But no-one spoke those words she most desperately wanted to hear. Her mother was uttering "my baby, my poor baby" under her breath, and she heard Ginny mutter something along the lines of "oh fuck, Hermione". But as people began to file past the coffin, throwing a handful of mud across the lid, no-one spoke. Each time the thud of earth hitting her coffin resounded through Hermione's ears, she winced, begging them to stop.

"Please! Stop! I'm here, I'm here, I'm Hermione, I'm here," she trailed off as desperate sobs consumed her, and she flung herself forward on top of the wooden casket, an odd feeling each time the dirt passed through her and made another thud.

"I can't take this any more," she sobbed. "I want to go home. I want to go back, I can't bear it here any more, take me home!"

And with that, she felt herself being pulled away from the wooden box that now housed her soulless body and back upwards to what she supposed she now called 'home'.

She didn't know how, but she somehow managed to drag herself up from the derelict building to her floor, where she broke down again and fell to her knees, too distraught to carry on.

Sirius, who had been leaning in his doorway talking to his cousin, looked up at the sound and back to one another in horror.

"Shit," Draco muttered. "What the fuck?"

"This isn't good," Sirius replied, dashing forward.

Hermione felt herself being picked up under the arms by two people and someone fishing inside her pocket for a key, and then suddenly she was in her warm, soft bed and she was too tired to keep thinking any more. Far too tired...

She woke to the smell of coffee. Opening a bleary eye, she saw a hand placing a steaming mug on the table next to her and then pulling it away cautiously, aware that she was coming around.

She sat up slightly, her face feeling cracked and stretched tight and her eyes stinging. She reached forward for the mug and sat back against the pillows as the person perched themselves awkwardly on the desk opposite.

"I - err, I'm sorry for reading your letter, but Sirius and I didn't know what else to do," Draco said, waving the note with the information on the funeral through the air. Hermione only nodded, taking a sip of the scalding liquid. Draco took this as an acceptance and looked unsure of how to proceed.

"He had to go and talk to Watson, he's quite high up in one of the departments here... I -" he paused, seeming nervous. "I didn't think it was right to leave you here by yourself. I can go if you want," he added, half-standing.

Hermione wasn't particularly overjoyed that he was here, but he wasn't being cruel to her and she didn't really want to be on her own and dwelling in self pity, so she shook her head.

"It's ok," she said, her voice croaky and dry from the crying.

A long silence passed, somewhere on the verge of being awkward, before Draco spoke again.

"I didn't know what to do when you came down that corridor. I kind of just followed Sirius's instructions. I'm so useless in those kinds of situations. It's probably why I was pretty useless at war."

For some reason, Hermione felt annoyance bubbling within her. How dare he feel sorry for himself? He was a Death Eater! She didn't care if he was useless or not. "Pretty useless? Try completely," she muttered, and then widened her eyes in shock. Where the hell did that come from?

Malfoy looked shocked at her outburst, and his face immediately changed. Defensive. "Like I need reminding of that, Granger," he growled. "I've been reminded every day for the last 18 years."

"Save the waffle, Malfoy," she spat back, again confused at her words. She had no idea where all this spite was coming from and she wasn't sure she liked it, but all his prying around and being nice lately was creeping her out.

"Fine, Granger, I'll shut up! I'm only here because Sirius asked me to stay with you until he got back, otherwise I'd have fucked off back to my own room and left you here hours ago. So shut your whining. You're not the only person around here who's ever suffered in their life!"

Hermione's eyes widened. So he wasn't being weird and up to something... Sirius had asked him to stay.

"You didn't have to stay," she said, more softly.

He stared at her. "Of course I did," he scoffed.

She didn't know what to say. "Of course I did," he muttered again, his head bowed and his eyes glazed over, staring into space.

A dead silence hung between them for what felt like hours. Hermione wondered which of them would speak first, or if Sirius would come back before they did. She sipped her coffee thoughtfully. _'Left you here hours ago'_. He'd been here hours, making sure nothing happened to her. Surely Sirius couldn't have been gone that long?

"I didn't have a funeral," said Draco quietly, breaking the long silence. He ran his hand through his bright blonde hair, messing it up and sighing.

"Why not?"

He looked up at her and forced a pained grimace. "The Dark Lord wasn't too pleased with all that had happened, as you could guess. He - well, he was angry, and when he was done being angry, my body was thrown over the boundaries of Malfoy land and left to rot."

Hermione covered her mouth with her hand. "Oh Malfoy," she whispered. "Are you just going to leave the remains there?"

Draco's eyes suddenly changed from a deep silvery swirl to a cold grey ice, and his body language stiffened. "I don't want to talk about it," he snapped, and he strode away into the kitchen away from her line of sight.

Hermione sighed, annoyed at his barriers, and rolled over, instantly falling back asleep.

**Please review :)**


	8. Chapter 8

**Your reviews are all so nice! It makes me very happy :) this is a bit of a filler chapter because the next one will be much more exciting!**

_"I can't believe the Heir of Slytherin is back again," Malfoy was drawling. "Of course, I'm absolutely not complaining. Ridding the school of Mudbloods? That's my idea of heaven."_

_Malfoy's cronies laughed around him, the high-pitched cackle of Pansy Parkinson contrasting with the unintelligible grunts of Crabbe and Goyle._

_"Who'd you reckon'll be next, Draco?" Parkinson asked, tilting her head to one side and twirling a strand of hair around her finger._

_Harry, Ron and Hermione all stopped writing, their quills hovering inches from the parchment so they could hear Malfoy speak without scratching sounds. This could be vital information for them, as they were currently brewing the Polyjuice Potion. _

_"Well I don't know do I, Parkinson?" Malfoy said, glancing at her and then looking away as if in disgust. "But I do know who I'd like it to be... Our favourite little Mudblood - Granger."_

_Ron stood in anger, his stool clattering away across the floor and half his potions ingredients falling over. He whirled round and glared at Malfoy._

_"Don't you speak about her like that Malfoy!" he spat._

_"I'd be careful, Weasel," Malfoy laughed. "You wouldn't want to be vomiting slugs again now would you?"_

_As the Slytherins laughed, Snape came along to tell off Ron and take away points for Gryffindor. Hermione wondered if this tormenting would ever stop, and sighed at the injustice of it all; she had done absolutely nothing wrong... She was simply born into the wrong family._

When Hermione woke properly that morning, Draco was gone.

She was glad of it. And she decided she was sick of these dreams and these memories, so she set off in search of a Pensieve.

Her wanderings took her towards the white buildings she had been brought to at the start. Everything was so white, and so clean, she felt dirty just walking down the slippy, shiny corridors. She didn't really know where she was going, so she read plaque after plaque trying to find the right department. Suddenly, one of the doors opened in her face.

"Ah, Miss Granger," smiled the man in front of her knowingly. "I've been expecting you. Come in."

And with that he turned and walked back into his office. Hermione paused, a little shocked, and read the plaque on his door. 'Department of Magical Artefacts'. Exactly what she had been looking for.

She glanced around and then followed cautiously, sitting down when the man gestured to the chair in front of her.

"Hello, Miss Granger, my name is Will Mack and I'm head of this department," he smiled, offering his hand to shake.

Taking it in her own, Hermione smiled. "Nice to meet you, Mr Mack."

"Please, call me Will," he said, and Hermione was a little taken aback by how dazzling his grin was. He had long brown hair that fell across his piercing green eyes and his cheeks were lined with a rather attractive stubble.

"So," he continued briskly. "I have a suspicion as to why you are here, but would you care to enlighten me?"

Hermione faltered. "Well. I - I know we don't have magic up here. Which I suppose in some ways is good... But I was wondering if I could acquire a Pensieve? I can't sit up there all day lost in my own thoughts, it'll drive me m-" she stopped, not wanting to say too much. "Well anyway. Is that possible?"

Will looked at her thoughtfully for a minute, his hand on his chin, before nodding. "A lot of people ask about this after the first few weeks. We can get it delivered to your apartment by the end of the day, if that's ok with you, Miss Granger?"

Hermione sighed in relief and stood. "Thank you very much, that will be fine. And please, call me Hermione. I'd best be going now." She smiled. "Thanks again."

Will stood to shake her hand again, and his deep green eyes bored into hers. "My pleasure, Hermione. Oh," he called out as she opened the door. "Go left and carry on for about 10 minutes and you should find the way out again without getting lost."

Hermione laughed - for the first time in a while, she realised - and grinned her thanks before shutting the door behind her.

The Pensieve had arrived, and just as Hermione realised she had no way of releasing her memories, she noticed an object lying next to it, a sort of mini-wand that she presumed she was supposed to use.

Hermione took a deep breath, and put the wand to her temple. Silvery threads dangled from the end, and she swirled the memories around in the Pensieve, relieved to get them out of her mind. As she went to put the wand down, another flashed through her head.

_"So, Granger," a voice called from behind her. She jumped, still a bit nervous after what had happened to her last time she walked down an empty corridor, and looked around._

_Malfoy smirked at her, leaning casually against the door frame with his arms across his chest. "I see they finally managed to release you from whatever state the Heir put you in. What a shame."_

_Hermione narrowed her eyes, anger bubbling within her like a fire. Why did he always have to be such a pompous git? "Shove off, Malfoy."_

_"Original," he said sarcastically. "What I meant was, what a shame you were only Petrified. If only the Basilisk had managed to do its job properly."_

_"How dare you?" Hermione cried. "How dare you be so cruel and crass? It's high time you realised, Malfoy, that nobody likes you! Your 'friends' are only so because it's what's expected of you all by your parents. You're cruel and rude and nobody else likes you."_

_"Oh Granger," Malfoy sighed theatrically. "It's funny because you think I actually care." He stood away from the door frame and marched towards her. "Don't ever - _ever_ - speak to me like that again, Granger, or you will pay the price."_

_Hermione was determined not to show fear or how upset she was, and stood up tall to try and face off Malfoy, which was difficult because of his height. "I'll pay the price? Well if that wasn't the most ridiculous and pathetic threat I've ever heard, Malf-"_

_She could not finish her sentence because Draco had grabbed the front of her robes and pushed her to the floor._

_"I said, Granger, do not mess with me, or you will pay," he growled. "Petrificus totalus."_

_And with that he strode away, smirking, as Hermione was stuck sat in the middle of en empty corridor, unable to wipe away the tears streaming down her frozen face._

Hermione wiped a tear from her eye and took out this memory too. Oh so cruel. He used to _make_ her cry, and now he_ made her coffee_ when she cried. What on earth had changed?

An overwhelming sense of grief came over her again when she thought back to the funeral, and a thought struck her. She could go down to earth.

She had been wondering for days what state Hogwarts was in, and if anyone had bothered to start cleaning it up yet. She assumed not, for it had only been - how long _had_ it been? She wasn't quite sure, but she surmised a week or so. All she knew was she wanted to be there right now.

**Ooh, an attractive guy... What does Hermione think of him? Next chapter... Hermione takes a little trip down to earth.**


	9. Chapter 9

**Thanks again to reviewers! Here's the chapter that's better than the last one!**

It was horrific. Of course, she had known much of it had been broken or destroyed, but to see the rubble and the empty spaces broke her heart.

Hermione stumbled up the front steps, her heart hammering even though she knew there was nobody there - and even if there was, they couldn't see and therefore couldn't hurt her.

Nobody had touched the place. Dried blood was splattered across the stone steps, and trails of the stuff could be seen across the Entrance Hall towards the Great Hall where the medical treatment had taken place. She nearly vomited as she walked through, spotting what appeared to be a rotting arm on the dusty floor, an inky Dark Mark still faintly visible.

All her childhood memories resided here. And many of them had been blown to pieces. She wasn't sure what had happened further up in the castle, and found herself making her way up towards the seventh floor, and to Gryffindor tower.

Along the way she passed ripped portraits, and blood-splattered portraits, most with their occupants missing. However a few had returned to their frames, and as she walked past, they looked up.

"My dear girl, your death was a terrible blow," said a portrait of a beautiful woman that Hermione had walked past many times, and sometimes even talked to. "I'm so sorry you had to go so young."

Hermione had not realised she could be seen by the portraits, but moved forwards to reply, her eyes stinging with tears. "I'm sorry too," she whispered. "All those things I'll never be able to do... Fall in love, get married, have children, get a job..."

She trailed off, the woman in the portrait sobbing quietly. Hermione ran her fingers along the frame. "Can you tell me what happened?"

The woman shook her head sadly. "It's not up to me to say, my dear. There is - someone who knows. One of your kind, who live up there. He'd be more right in telling you, my love."

"Who?" Hermione's hand dropped to her side, listening intently, but the woman just shook her head again, and Hermione knew she would say no more. She half-smiled in thanks and moved away, spotting the portrait hole ahead of her.

It was open, and she climbed carefully straight into the common room. It was not so bad as the other parts of the castle, but someone had clearly gone through the room and searched it for something; chairs were overturned and pages from books scattered the floor. Hermione was too exhausted to care, and settled herself down in the only remaining armchair.

This was really happening. She had died, and gone up to a sort of heaven. Others were there too; Remus, Tonks, Fred... Although she had only seen Fred. The many others that had died were either living in a different block or hadn't made it up there at all.

She had seen Ron and Harry at her funeral, so she assumed that they were safe and that the light had won, but she had to be sure. She had to be sure it was all over and nobody else would be following her up there, even though she missed them dearly.

After about an hour sat reminiscing about all the times she'd spent sat in that very armchair in front of the fire or telling off Ron for not doing his homework, Hermione stood and climbed out of the portrait hole. She paused at the end of the Fat Lady's corridor, her heart jumping once more as she heard a noise. It sounded like - like someone crying.

Was it a real person? Had someone come back by themselves to wander amongst the ruins and remind themselves of that awful day? Or was it something else, like a portrait or another ghost? She wondered what had become of Nearly Headless Nick and the others.

She soon found out the answer. Slumped against the door to the Room of Requirement, his head in his hand and legs bent up to his face, was Malfoy.

Hermione was unsure of what to do, but she knew she could not turn around and leave without him noticing her. She felt uneasy. Malfoy was crying. She'd never seen him like this before, and it unnerved her.

She stepped forward cautiously. "Malfoy?" she said quietly.

He jumped and looked up, immediately wiping his eyes and looking away from her. She sat in the middle of the floor, directly opposite him, and looked at him sadly.

"It's ok to do that, you know," she said. He stopped wiping his face and stared at her. "To cry. There's nothing to be ashamed of. This is all just horrible."

"I - I didn't know anything had happened until today," he whispered. "I mean, a lot of people came through last week. I knew something was different, but this - everything's been destroyed. People - people have gone."

"It's heartbreaking," she agreed. "It was worse during the battle though, watching it all happen. You're lucky you weren't there. Oh!" she gasped. "I'm sorry, I forgot -"

"It's fine, Granger," Draco said irritably, clearly embarrassed at having been caught crying.

She looked down awkwardly, knowing that any pleasant conversation that they could have started just then was now out of the question. They both stood, walking through the castle stood side by side without talking, neither knowing what to do or what to say. Hermione passed the portrait of the girl she had spoken to earlier and she nodded at Hermione, jogging her memory.

"Do you know what the outcome was? Of the battle," she asked, not sure if she should have or not.

Malfoy rubbed his face with his hands, looking so tired and well, human, that Hermione could not help but be confused by his change since her fifth year.

"You guys won, obviously. How could you not," he laughed bitterly. "I don't know how any of them ever thought they could win against you lot. It was ridiculous. You knew all of these things that the Dark Lord didn't, knew all the ways to outsmart him. You found all of his Horcruxes, his failsafe, his way out. He stood no chance."

Hermione's eyebrows knotted in confusion. "How do you know about the Horcruxes?"

"I - I just know. I did my own research, you know. But I figured that, as you'd already disappeared, you already knew about them."

"What the hell?" Hermione exclaimed. "How come you thought all of this stuff and never told any of us?"

Malfoy glared at her angrily. "Because I didn't fucking _want_ to, Granger, is that ok with you? I didn't particularly fancy being murdered. Although a fat lot of good that did!"

He sent her another nasty glare as they walked along and Hermione wondered if he blamed the 'Golden Trio' for his death. Harry had taken his wand, after all, and unknowingly made him face the wrath of his father.

"It wasn't Harry's fault, you know," she put forward. "He didn't mean for that to happen, none of us did. I don't remember much, but I know how awful he felt after-"

"I don't want to talk about it, Granger!" he stopped walking and yelled in her face, his eyes burning.

Hermione cowered under his stare, shrinking back although he was a good 10 inches taller than her. She blinked several times, determined not to let tears well in her eyes, and suddenly rushed away, leaving Malfoy stood angrily behind her.

She didn't know where she was going, but when she rounded the corner she broke into a run, terrified she was going to burst into tears and let Malfoy see how scared she was. She was a Gryffindor for goodness' sake. Not a wimpy little girl.

Slowing down, she found herself the last place on earth she ever wanted to be again. It was _the_ room. The room in which she died.

The wall was still broken where Luna had warned her to watch out. The floor was covered in dust and dirt, but a clean trail had been made through it where somebody had been dragged away - Lucius?

She walked over to the the pile of rubble that had fallen on her, and could see the place where she had climbed out. Blood covered the floor, and the trail she had dragged behind her was still as clear as ever.

Her breath caught in her throat, and before she knew it, she was on her knees and choking on sobs, re-living the memory in her mind, feeling it as if were happening all over again, and Lucius was casting Crucio on her again, and her leg was broken, and -

Malfoy had caught up with her, and was staring from across the room, horrified. Hermione was too upset and confused to care, but when she didn't stop crying she heard hesitant footsteps, and then a comforting hand on her back. She looked up, and saw him concerned but uncomfortable, obviously not knowing what to do or what was wrong.

"It happened here," she whispered.

Comprehension dawned in Draco's silver eyes as he glanced around, and he dropped himself (gracefully, of course - he was still a Malfoy) to the floor next to Hermione, wrapping his arms around her as she cried into his shoulder.

"Is this blood all yours?" he asked quietly, chewing his lip.

Hermione murmured the affirmative and then realised what she was doing. She was sat on the floor next to Draco Malfoy with her head buried in his chest, most probably making a mess of his shirt. She reached up to wipe her eyes, embarrassed.

"It's ok to do that, you know," Draco said, repeating her earlier words with a half-hearted smile. "Cry."

Hermione half-sighed, half-laughed bitterly and they moved apart, the moment over, although Hermione felt a little odd letting go, like she needed to be comforted just a little while longer.

"What happened?" Malfoy ventured, as they sat side by side.

Hermione stood to go home, knowing she would be pulled up away from earth as soon as she wanted. She looked at Malfoy.

"I don't want to talk about it."

**Oh Malfoy, your words came back to haunt you! Seems neither of them want to talk about it. Probably not the best idea, is it?**


	10. Chapter 10

Two weeks later and Hermione didn't really know what to do with herself. The lack of people she knew up there was starting to bug her, and she knew she had to keep herself busy. She left Room 13 and crossed the hall to the door opposite.

"Zena!" she called, banging on the door. "I'm bored! Can we do something?"

There was a long pause, filled with muffled shuffling and banging from inside the room. Hermione waited, not sure whether to stay or not, but just as she was about to leave, the door opened and a tired-looking Zena opened the door.

"Sorry!" she panted. "I was doing yoga. Did you say you wanted to do something? I'm sorry, I'm a little busy today. Perhaps on Friday? Oh wait, that's tomorrow. I could show you around, show you all the places to go!"

"Yeah, ok," said Hermione, smiling, hiding her disappointment. "Just let me know when you want to go then."

As Zena closed the door again, Hermione turned and wandered along the corridor, not sure of where to go. She'd already been up to see Fred, who was doing marginally better each day. Sirius, perhaps?

She found he wasn't particularly busy and they sat down for a cup of tea.

"So Hermione," he began. "How are you finding this all?"

Hermione sighed and looked at her hands. "It's all a bit surreal. I just want to go home."

"You are home now," Sirius said sadly. "We're here because we've died, Hermione. There's no going back now. This is it. This is our life from now on."

Hermione sighed. She had been coming to terms with the fact she wasn't going back for the last few days, but Sirius's words were like the nail on the coffin. She wasn't going back to earth, she wouldn't be alive again, and that's just the way things were.

"How come you're still here?" she asked, remembering he was the 'exception to the rule'.

Sirius rubbed a hand across his face and sighed wearily, as if wondering how to word something. "I couldn't face going up there and seeing James and Lily. I just - I couldn't. And I promised myself that I would wait here, until the war was over, in case Harry needed me. And by that, I mean in case he was killed and ended up here. But I suppose... It's all over now, isn't it? I could just go. Could just go..." He trailed off, looking deep in thought.

Hermione spluttered. "But you can't just _go_!" she said indignantly. "You can't leave me here living next door to _him_ and just go!"

Sirius smiled knowingly, snapped out of his reverie. "Draco isn't a bad man, Hermione. No, listen to me. He has done some stupid things, and god knows he was awful to you, and there is no excusing that, but he's changed. And it might surprise you to know that he hasn't felt _that _way for a few years now."

Hermione was sat in stunned silence, and then raised an eyebrow disbelievingly. "And you know all of this because?"

"I told you, we got to know each other a bit more. He is my cousin after all."

When Hermione looked unimpressed, Sirius sighed and ran a hand through his long dark hair. Even now, he was still as handsome as ever.

"Hermione, I need you to promise me something."

She was worried suddenly. The tone of his voice set her mind racing and she knew she wasn't going to like what was coming next. "Please don't go on and leave me here," she begged. "What about Remus?"

"Remus and Tonks are fine together. They're coming to terms with... losing Teddy," Sirius managed to say, his emotions clearly running high at the thought of one of his best friends. "Anyway, regardless of when or if I go, Hermione, I want you to promise me something. Talk to Draco. Try and get along with him for a while, and you'll see how different he is. I don't want the rest of your time here to be miserable. Promise me."

Hermione's mouth was gaping, moving soundlessly as she struggled to speak. "I -"

"No, Hermione," said Sirius, his face suddenly ageing and giving away his true years. "Just promise me that."

The strong, funny man Hermione knew looked as if he were about to burst into tears, and so she moved forwards and rested her hand on top of his. He looked up.

"I promise, Sirius. I promise."

She couldn't take the look on the man's face any longer, and she left, but not before giving him a huge hug, filling it was all the things she'd never be able to say. She only hoped he'd stop thinking about 'Going on', and leaving her basically alone with Draco right next door.

She thought about her promise. She didn't have to do that much, really, except try and be polite to Malfoy and hold some civil conversations with him, if he was willing to do so without being a pompous prat. Then again, thought Hermione, it would probably take a lot of effort for him not to be a pompous prat.

Hermione decided she was going to start right now and keep her promise, so instead of walking past his door in order to get to her own, she stopped and banged on his, loudly. There was no answer, so she knocked again. Still no answer.

She was about to knock a third time when the door suddenly opened, and Malfoy stood there in nothing but a towel, having clearly just finished in the shower. Hermione's jaw dropped open in embarrassment and she felt her cheeks catch fire.

But oh God, he looked so _good. _His hair was falling in his eyes in a way that rivalled Jack in _Titanic_ (not that Malfoy would ever understand that reference) and he was half-leant against the door. His pale skin was glistening with beads of water, and Hermione watched as one rolled down his chest and across his toned abs.

"I know I look good, but there's no need to stare, Granger," Malfoy drawled, with that smirk on his face.

Hermione blushed even harder, if that were possible, and opened her mouth angrily to speak, but was cut off by Draco's laughter.

"I'm kidding, Granger, don't be so serious," he grinned. "Well unless you didn't really want anything, come in and wait while I get dressed."

Sitting in one of his comfortable chairs, Hermione smacked herself in the head. She didn't even like Malfoy, but when she was presented with that in her face there was nowhere else she could really look. He was much taller than her and her face was directly level with his chest.

A few minutes later, Draco emerged from the bathroom in black trousers and a shirt, and he was rolling up the sleeves as he walked in. Why did he always dress so smart? It wouldn't kill him to wear something casual. Although Hermione doubted that he actually owned something casual. But he wore smart clothes so well...

"So," Draco said, leaning against his desk with his hands in his pockets. "To what do I owe this surprise?"

"I think I was the one who got a bloody surprise!" she said hotly. "Who opens their door with no clothes on?"

Draco smirked again, folding his arms across his chest. "Well if you didn't insist on banging on my door so loudly, Granger, I wouldn't have bothered answering at all. Now is there something you wanted or was this just a friendly get-together?"

She hated his sarcasm, the way he was constantly mocking, like he didn't know how to be any other way. He didn't. He actually didn't.

"Drop the smirk, Malfoy," she muttered. "I came because I -"

Should she tell him that she had promised Sirius that she'd make the effort? She thought about if the situation was the other way round. She certainly wouldn't want to talk to him if he told her that.

"- I am trying to be a better person and so I have to be nice to you," she waffled.

A raised eyebrow. "_You're _trying to be a better person? Now that's something I never thought I'd hear you say. Don't be stupid, Granger. I'm the one who needs to be a better person, hence why I've been trying to make the effort with you."

"So you're only talking to me to benefit yourself," she laughed bitterly.

Malfoy pushed himself forward from the desk, rolling his eyes as he flicked on the television. "Why must you continuously twist my words into things that I didn't mean to say, Granger?"

She huffed, but said nothing as he sat in the armchair to the left of hers and turned on some programme about whales. They sat for about an hour, in an amiable silence, watching the television. She even forgot he was there after a while, before the programme ended and he switched it off.

He looked at her, his grey eyes giving nothing away, and after a short pause said "Fancy going for a walk? I need to talk to - well, one of the heads of departments."

She nodded, not knowing what else to do, and so they made their way in a slightly awkward silence down the lift and out towards the largest building she navigated before when requesting her Pensieve. There seemed to be an unspoken agreement not to mention what had happened down at Hogwarts and Hermione was thankful he hadn't brought it up. They'd both cried at some point or other, and she'd shown far too much of herself for her liking.

"It's like a bloody maze in here," said Draco, as they wandered down a few corridors. "I've been to this office about 80 times and I still get lost trying to find it."

Hermione laughed a little, knowing exactly what he meant. When he stopped in front of a door without a plaque on and knocked, she looked at him expectantly.

"I'll only be about two minutes," he said. "Do you mind waiting out here?"

She shook her head, knowing that it was probably something private he was discussing and she had no business interfering. He nodded in acknowledgement and slipped inside when the door was opened, leaving her in the corridor.

A group of people in suits entered one end of the corridor and Hermione cursed herself for looking so out of place. Her hair was knotted in a bun on her head and she was wearing leggings and a baggy jumper. She looked like a tramp compared to these people, so she looked down as they walked past and hoped they wouldn't notice.

"Hermione?" said a male voice, and she looked up to see Will breaking off from the group as they continued to the end of the corridor and around the corner.

He really was good looking. His emerald eyes just seemed to bore right into hers and make her all nervous and girly, like she was some silly 12-year-old girl.

"Oh! Will," she exclaimed, trying to make it sound like she hadn't noticed him before. "How are you?"

He grinned at her, and Hermione had the biggest urge to reach out and touch the dimples that graced his cheeks, but she didn't. "I'm very well, thank you. I can see that you are."

She blushed, not sure what to say to his compliment, but he seemed to find it amusing and just laughed.

"Hermione," he said, his face becoming a little more serious, and a look of false bashfulness graced his features. "Listen, I hope you don't think this is inappropriate or out of line, but I was wondering how you'd feel if I asked you to dinner on Saturday?"

Her heart fluttered, and she had trouble making sure her breath came out in regular patterns otherwise he would realise how much of a mess she was. He was asking her on a date! He was tall and yummy and Ginny would most certainly approve.

If she were here.

"I would love to," Hermione grinned, and Will returned it, his false shyness dropping immediately.

"So I'll pick you up at 8? See you on Saturday then! Must go, I'm late for a meeting," he winked, and walked briskly round the corner after his colleagues.

Hermione stood for a minute with a silly smile on her face, excited that she was receiving attention. Boys never paid attention to her, the annoying, bossy little bookworm with bushy hair. And here was this gorgeous man offering to take her on a date!

She turned around to see if Malfoy had finished yet, and her smile dropped instantly. He was stood by the door, arms crossed, with his eyebrow raised and his eyes cold.

"Have you finished?" he sneered. Hermione nodded, too shocked and embarrassed to speak. "Can we go back now? Oh, we can? How kind of you."

Why did he make her feel like such a fool? She had done nothing wrong.

He rolled his eyes and barged past her, striding away down the corridor and not even bothering to see if she was keeping up. She tried for a while but his legs were far too long, and as she rounded the corner into a long corridor and saw him disappearing around the corner at the far end, she stopped, panting, and leant against the wall.

What the hell had gotten into him?

**What's up with Draco then? Review please :)**


	11. Chapter 11

**to xMissxHallawayx - that is a very good point! I didn't think about that, thanks for pointing it out :) never mind! Thanks to my reviewers - this is kind of another filler chapter, sorry!**

Hermione had spent the last 3 hours trying to persuade Fred to go and see George. Yes, she knew he couldn't see him, and yes, she knew it would be difficult for Fred, but things weren't exactly plain sailing as it was and even though it might make it worse for a while, it would help in the long run.

"I can't bear it, Hermione," he said, rubbing his face repeatedly with his palms. "Seeing him sad and upset, I just don't think I can bear it."

"You have to go at some point, Fred!" Hermione said, getting a little irritable. "Yes, it's fucking awful! I went down and endured my own funeral. I know that you couldn't face going to yours, and there's nothing wrong with that, but you need to see George at some point! You can't wallow in self-pity forever."

Fred stood angrily, pushing his chair away so it made a horrible scraping noise against the floor. He slammed his fist on the table, making Hermione flinch.

"God dammit, Hermione!" he shouted. "Will you just keep your nose out of other people's business for one little minute? Stop trying to be the perfect little Gryffindor and go and wallow in your own pity instead of trying to banish mine!"

Hermione was shocked. She had never, _ever_, seen Fred lose his temper in this way, not in 7 years. She didn't reply, knowing that she had crossed some sort of line and pushed Fred too far, and so she stood and walked out, knowing that if she stayed any longer something even more unusual might happen. She didn't know if Fred could get any angrier than he just was, but she didn't want to stay and find out.

What was _up _with everyone lately? Yesterday Malfoy had flipped for no reason and left her behind to navigate the winding corridors of the... Well, she assumed it was some kind of Ministry. And now Fred had flipped too and gone crazy on her. Perhaps she should just take Fred's advice and stay out of people's way.

Hermione was forced out of this idea by Zena who walked straight into her apartment without even knocking and dragged her outside.

"I told you I'd show you around, didn't I?" she said with a dreamy smile. "It's Friday, and you said to let you know when I wanted to go, and that is now, so let's go!"

"Argh, ok, ok!" Hermione conceded.

'Limbo' was bigger than she saw the first time she'd seen it, or so she thought. When you got to the edge it was still a blurred grey, as if nothing existed further, but there were so many more buildings than she'd noticed, because she'd only looked out of her window and she lived on the edge. It was more like a town, with buildings stretching forward as far as she could see.

"I'll take you to the centre," Zena said. "There's shops and restaurants and even a cinema."

"This is all a bit surreal," Hermione replied, looking around. "It's not like we've left earth at all.. It's just like I've moved town or something."

"You'll get used to it," Zena said, her eyes misting over slightly in a melancholy way, before she broke out into a smile again and skipped ahead.

Hermione had to run to catch up and they ended up in the centre quicker than she thought they would. And boy was it beautiful.

There was a large fountain in the middle, golden and sparkling as water cascaded down the sides into the pool below. Zena was right; restaurants and pubs and shops lined the streets around her but they looked so _clean_. Just like she'd thought when she entered the lift in her apartment block for the first time. Clearly the people around her were good people, and like to take care of the place around them. If only earth were like that...

"I might need to get a new dress," Hermione said, trying to sound nonchalant.

Zena turned around in a mass of mousey hair and raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah?" she said suggestively. "And why is that, Hermione?"

Hermione blushed and a smile crept onto her cheeks. "Someone is taking me on a date."

Zena didn't look surprised, as if she'd had a hunch anyway, and dragged Hermione into about five different shops trying on dinner-date appropriate dresses. Finally, they found a lovely cream-coloured chiffon dress that fell just above her knees.

"You'll look beautiful," Zena smiled, and grabbed Hermione's hand, pulling her along as they made their way back to their apartments. "Who's the lucky man? Is it that Draco Malfoy? He's certainly a bit dreamy. I wouldn't say no, if you know what I mean!"

She giggled, and Hermione nearly gagged. "Eurgh! No! I hat- I mean, me and Malfoy don't really get along. Never have, never will."

"Oh, you will," Zena said mysteriously, but refused to comment further at Hermione's confused look. "So who is it?"

"Oh," Hermione blushed, remembering. "His name is Will, and he works in the Dep-"

"Department of Magical Artefacts," Zena cut in, stopping dead. "Will Mack? Be careful, Hermione. Looks can be deceiving."

"What?" Hermione exclaimed as Zena pulled her along once more.

"Nothing. I'm just warning you now, Hermione, be careful."

Hermione was struggling to keep up with Zena, both physically and mentally. "How do you know who he is? Why should I be careful? Zena, tell me what's going on. Now!"

Hermione grabbed Zena's arm and whirled her around, staring her hard in the face. "Tell me what the hell is going on, Zena!" she warned.

Zena shook her head, something Hermione had not seen before hidden in the depths of her eyes, and rushed away, leaving Hermione where she stood.

**Short filler chapter, as I said - but the next chapter is _the date_!**


	12. Chapter 12

**Thanks again for the reviews! Here it is :)**

Hermione was incredibly nervous. She'd never really been on a date before, not properly, because she and Ron were already friends.

The cream dress fitted her perfectly, and she put in some golden dangly earrings and a gold necklace to finish the outfit off. She had tried to make the effort, and so wore a little more make up and straightened her hair (a lot harder than she thought it would be!).

As always, Hermione was ready early. She perched herself on the edge of her bed, deep in thought. The idea of going on this date was incredibly nerve-wracking, and her stomach was twisting itself in knots. Of course she was excited though, because Will truly was a handsome guy. Her certainly knew how to wrap her around his little finger.

Maybe that was what Zena had warned her about. Perhaps he was just too much of a charmer. But Hermione could deal with that, surely? She had faced death, what could be more difficult?

A knock on the door signalled his arrival, and when she opened it, he looked her up and down and gave an impressed whistle.

"Someone's looking sexy," he grinned.

He was wearing an outfit not too dissimilar to Malfoy's every day wear, except of course he looked much different than when she had last seen him.

He proffered his arm to her and she slipped hers through it, feeling important and, well, special. Nobody had ever noticed her for her looks before. If anyone wanted to spend time with her it was to finish their Transfiguration homework or research something for a Charms essay.

Will took her to a rather flashy looking restaurant somewhere in the centre, and she tried not to gaze in awe at the place around her. It was just so... _expensive_ looking. She'd never been taken anywhere like this before.

Will had made a reservation and they were shown to their seats immediately, but Hermione was a little disappointed when he didn't pull out her chair for her. He wasn't being deliberately rude, but she was just disappointed that men didn't seem to have those kind of mannerisms towards women any more.

"So, Hermione," he said while they waited for the menu, and winked. "How are things with you?"

"They're going ok, actually," Hermione said, smiling. "It's been difficult, but I'm finally coming to terms with it all and trying to get over it."

Hermione waited for an answer, and then realised that Will was conversing with the waiter about his starter and wasn't even listening to her. He didn't even offer for her to order first!

She was beginning to wonder why he was acting so differently than he seemed to yesterday. Most of his manners had seemed to waltz right out of the window and he didn't look as if he cared in the slightest.

As the waiter walked away, Hermione shot a confused glance at Will. "I didn't get to order anything..." she began.

Will waved his hand airily. "Don't worry, I ordered for the both of us."

Ignoring her shell shocked expression, he poured some red wine into his empty glass and swirled it around before taking a sip and humming appreciatively.

Hermione was getting a little annoyed already. "So what has happened for you to work here then? Is it permanent, or do you 'go on' too?"

"We're like your friend Sirius Black. Special cases, because the Ministry needs people to work there. If your friend decides to stay longer, then he'll probably be offered a job too. Although we can hardly make our way around there without getting lost!" he joked.

Hermione laughed, finding herself relaxing as his manners seemed to return a little and he was polite and attentive.

Mid-way through their fishy starter, which Hermione wasn't particularly fond of, she spotted something. Or someone.

The restaurant was adjoining to the bar next door, clearly owned by the same people, and the connecting wall had been knocked through so you could see the bar next door. Hermione's chair was facing this way, and over Will's shoulder she could see the definitive blonde locks of the boy who lived next door sitting alone at the bar, chatting to the bartender.

She put her head down quickly so he wouldn't spot her and continued eating, although the food was starting to make her feel sick so she pushed it away and hoped that Will had picked a nicer main dish.

He hadn't. Yet again it was something Hermione didn't enjoy, and she was confused as to why he hadn't let her choose her own food in the first place. It was really rather odd in her opinion.

As she looked up from pushing her food around her plate, trying to hide the disgusted look on her face, she made contact with those grey eyes and they looked at each other for a moment. Then she saw his eyes flicker to Will and back to her and he realised she was on the date that he'd seen Will ask her to. He looked away.

She sighed, annoyed that she wasn't keeping her promise to Sirius because Malfoy was acting strangely. Actually, now she came to think of it, he was acting like the spoiled, fussy brat he'd always been.

"... and so I told him that he couldn't just waltz into my department and order me around like that. He soon got the message after I threw the folder he was trying to shove into my hands at his head."

Hermione pulled herself back into focus and saw Will looking at her expectantly, so she let out a not all that convincing laugh, but it seemed to please him and he winked at her again.

Why was he acting like such a letch?

The final straw came for Hermione when she realised he'd ordered a chocolate sundae for desert and he wanted them to share. Normally she wouldn't have minded, but he kept trying to spoon the ice cream into her mouth as if they were romantically involved already.

He didn't notice the look of utter disgust on her face as she tried to avoid his advancing spoon, but Draco Malfoy did over at the bar, and he was laughing so hard she wouldn't be surprised if he had tears in his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Will," she said abruptly, standing quickly. "I must go and use the bathroom. Please excuse me."

"Not at all," he said, trying to hide his disappointment at not being able to force-feed her anything else. "Don't be too long!"

Hermione shivered as she rushed through towards the toilets, which were located in the pub side of the establishment. She didn't need the toilet at all, but she needed a break from Will for a few moments, and sat down at a table in the corner that was out of the line of sight of their own.

She was just about to sigh in relief when Draco settled himself down into the seat opposite, a smirk playing across his face.

"Enjoying yourself are you, Granger?" he mocked, knowing she was doing anything but.

Hermione glared at him. "He's weird. Really weird. I thought that maybe I was outdated in my idea of mannerisms towards women but I don't think I am, I think he's just a creep."

Malfoy looked interested. "What did he do wrong?"

"Well he didn't pull my chair out for me," - Malfoy looked surprised - "he ordered all of my meal for me," - Malfoy looked scandalised - "and he tried to _feed_ me. In a restaurant. On a first date. And only date!" she added, the thought of a second horrifying her.

"Yes, I saw your _most_ unfortunate dessert predicament a minute ago. However, that man really needs to be taught some manners. You were right, Granger. Your ideas aren't outdated at all."

Hermione nodded, knowing that the Malfoys prided themselves on their etiquette.

"When he picked you up," Malfoy ventured, circling his whiskey glass. "Did he tell you that you looked beautiful?"

"I - what?" Hermione stuttered, surprised. "No. He said - he said I looked _sexy._"

The word made her cringe and Draco could quite agree. "That just proves your point entirely then. You cannot welcome a girl on your very first date by using any other word than 'beautiful'. It's just wrong."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully, but didn't reply. She was lost in thought. For a moment there, she thought Malfoy was telling her that he thought she looked beautiful, not just asking a simple question. Not that it bothered her, obviously. She just would have liked for _someone_ to call her beautiful. Not 'sexy'.

She was about to turn and say something else when she saw Will stood behind them both, an unreadable look on his face.

"I thought you were going to the toilets?"

**Oh dear! What is Will going to have to say about this?**


	13. Chapter 13

**Here's the second half of the date!**

Hermione panicked for a moment, and Malfoy could see in her eyes that her mind had gone blank, so he stood and offered his hand to Will, who shook it suspiciously.

"Draco Malfoy. I'm an old acquaintance of Hermione's from school. We were just catching up, it's been a long time since we saw each other last."

"I see," said Will, his face still not happy, as if he thought he _owned_ her or something.

"Well anyway, Hermione," he said, ignoring Draco completely now and sitting in his seat. "I was wondering if you'd like to accompany me to the pictures. It's not quite late yet and I think it would be a lovely end to the evening."

Hermione watched as Draco walked away backwards, lifting two of his fingers to his forehead and flicking them forward in a kind of salute before turning mid-walk and heading back to the bar, where she saw him strike up a conversation with a blonde witch.

She sighed. "I'm not sure, Will. I'm really quite tired now after all that food."

This was a lie. She hardly ate anything because of his terrible taste.

"Oh come on, Hermione, don't ruin the evening," he said, flashing that dazzling smile that seemed to make her forget his rudeness for a second.

"Oh, ok then," she conceded, then regretting it. She couldn't not go now she'd said that! What an idiot.

She allowed herself to be dragged across the square, past the golden fountain, and into what she assumed was the cinema. She was curious to see what films they were playing. Surely it must be the same ones as on earth? They couldn't exactly make films up here, could they?

Her theory was proved correct as she saw the theatrical poster for a film she had seen about a month and a half ago when running past a Muggle cinema, not long before the final battle. It looked boring, and she knew that now she'd thought that, it would be the one that Will took her to.

And it was, of course. He made them sit at the back, and she was hoping that he hadn't got any ideas into his head.

The film was some kind of action fighting genre, and Hermione didn't like it at all. The flashing images and fast-paced action reminded her far too much of her being on the run with Ron and Harry, and the final battle, and she suddenly remembered where the hell she was. In 'Limbo', having died little over a month ago, and she'd accepted a _date_? What on earth had she been thinking?

Her mood was put off entirely now. She felt embarrassed and guilty, knowing she should probably be tucked up in bed wallowing in her self-pity still like Fred had told her. She'd thought that maybe this would take her mind off things, but it had made it worse.

Will had put his arm around her shoulders, and before she knew it, he started kissing her neck, burying his head in hear hair. He gave her neck a sharp bite, clearly thinking it would turn her on, but Hermione couldn't take it any more and she stood suddenly, pushing him away.

"I'm sorry Will, but this was a mistake," she said, pushing past him and hurrying through the aisle towards the exit.

She could hear him shouting her name somewhere behind her but she did not stop until she was out of the door into the fresh night and able to breathe.

Suddenly, her arm was grabbed roughly from behind and he pulled her into an alleyway, pushing her against the wall and snarling angrily into her face.

"How dare you treat me like that?" he hissed. "You were rude all through dinner, and then you excused yourself to talk to another man! And now you embarrass me like that when you were clearly leading me on. I don't take things like that lightly."

Hermione was horrified. He was holding her arms so tightly that her feet were actually dangling off the ground. And he thought that she'd done all those things? He was the one who was entirely rude throughout dinner.

He'd asked her something else and she hadn't heard, so he slammed her against the wall again, and all the breath left her lungs as she cried out.

And then suddenly, she was let go, and fell to the floor. There was a cracking sound, as if someone had thrown a punch, and then she saw Malfoy shoving Will into the opposite wall and threatening him. He had blood dripping from his nose and his dark hair was getting sticky where it fell into his face.

Hermione couldn't make out what they were saying, but suddenly Draco shoved Will away, who struggled to stay on his feet as he ran from the alley and never looked back.

Hermione closed her eyes and sighed, leaning her head back against the wall in relief. She felt her hand being pulled and allowed herself to stand up, smoothing down her dress, which was now covered in dirt all over.

"Thanks," she muttered, looking up. "If only I had my wand still, I could have hexed him in an instant. I don't know what he was thinking, honestly."

Draco eyed the deepening hand-shaped bruises forming on her upper arms and rubbed them gently with his hands. The sensation made Hermione want to shiver. "Are you ok?"

The reality of the situation hit Hermione and she covered her mouth, her fingers shaking slightly. It was a moment before she nodded, taking her fingers away.

"I - yeah. Yeah, I'm ok now," she whispered. She hated feeling like such a helpless fool. It was embarrassing, to say the least.

"I take it you'll be wanting to go home now?" he asked, and she nodded her agreement. They silently walked from the alley and began making their way home.

Hermione swallowed. Her throat was dry and her heart still racing. How had a man like that not gone straight to hell after he'd died? She thought they needed a new system to filter the bad guys out.

Although she would have thought that Draco Malfoy came under that category. She had wondered previously as to why he was here, and not rotting in hell, but she'd never quite come to a conclusion. Sirius had told her he was a good man, but she hadn't believed him. Her opinion was beginning to change slightly after what he just did.

"I don't understand," she said, and he glanced sideways at her under a golden street lamp. "Why were you even there still in the first place?"

Draco sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "Will Mack has - shall we say - a slight reputation around here."

Hermione's eyes widened and what he was trying to say dawned on her immediately.

"He does this to every new pretty girl who comes up here," he continued, noticing her comprehension. "I could see it coming, but I didn't want you to think I was interfering."

Hermione sighed, not even noticing that he'd inadvertently just called her pretty. "Zena warned me about him. She didn't say anything specifically, but she said I should be wary. I should have listened. I shouldn't have gone with him when he asked about the film-"

"Granger, you can't keep going through what you should or shouldn't have done. What's done is done now and there's nothing we can do. But you'll have to stay away from that prick, do you understand?"

Hermione nodded. Normally she didn't really like being bossed about but she couldn't help but agree with him. She did need to stay away from Will. The prick.

"Argh, I'm so embarrassed," she muttered. "I'm such a fool."

"We're all lead astray at times," Draco said wisely. "It's whether or not we make the right choices in the end that makes the difference."

Hermione looked at him, although he wouldn't meet her eye, and a sudden image of his dead face staring up at her from the floor of Malfoy Manor flashed through her mind.

When they got back to the apartments, she let Draco in just to make sure everything was ok and that Will wasn't secretly hiding in her bathroom or some such nonsense (her imagination was running a little wild).

The bruises on her arms were now a deep purple, and looked as if someone had dipped their hands in paint and shoved their hand print onto her skin. She didn't even remember the bite he had given her until she saw Draco looking at it warily.

"What else did he do to you?"

"Nothing like that," Hermione said quickly. "He was just trying to kiss my neck and then he bit me. As if he thought I'd like that, in the middle of a cinema. God, what a complete arsehole."

Malfoy left the room for a second, and came back in with a tissue. "Your neck is bleeding," he said, moving forwards to wipe it all away.

Hermione became very wary of his proximity to her, and could smell his cologne and feel his breath on her skin. She was also very aware that this was Draco Malfoy, Slytherin, former tormentor and childhood bully.

"I'm ok," she said, not unkindly. "I'm fine now."

He raised an eyebrow, as if not quite believing her, but said nothing.

"Thank you," Hermione whispered, reaching out as he turned to leave and resting her hand on his forearm lightly. He looked down at it and back up to her face. He nodded, checking in her eyes to see if she really was ok, and walked away towards the door.

"Goodnight, Granger."

She turned to reply, only to find the door closed and he'd left.

**Oh what a hero! ;) seems he knew what this guy was like but didn't want to say... **


	14. Chapter 14

**Hellooo! :) thanks for reviewing guys!**

_"You're going to regret what you did to me the other night, Granger," Malfoy hissed, towering over Hermione in the middle of the third floor corridor._

_"You deserved it Malfoy, and you know it!" Hermione protested, trying to move away from him._

_Malfoy laughed coldly. "You hit me, Granger. You're lucky I don't hit girls, but believe me, you _will_ pay."_

_"And how's that going to work then?"_

_"I said I never hit girls. I didn't say I never hexed them. Watch your back."_

Another memory into Hermione's Pensieve. She had woken up the next morning with her mind overflowing with them.

_"Such a shame that Granger is a Mudblood," Blaise Zabini was saying. "She doesn't half scrub up well."_

_"I agree," came the silky voice of Draco Malfoy. "And on the arm of the one and only Victor Krum too. It really seems like she's trying to make a place for herself in our world. I can't wait to see her face when she realises she never will."_

_Blaise laughed, and Hermione heard the unmistakable cackle of Pansy Parkinson too. She fought her own emotions and tried not to let them get the better of her as she rounded the corner into the line of sight of the Slytherins._

_"Ah, Granger," Malfoy smirked. "We were just talking about you."_

_"Oh, I'm so flattered Malfoy," Hermione said, smiling sweetly._

_He laughed. "You actually think that you look good, don't you Granger? You think that you wear a dress and do your hair - goodness knows how long that took, are you wearing a wig? - and then suddenly everyone will fall in love with you? This isn't a book, Granger. You're still an ugly little bookworm who, by tomorrow, will have been forgotten all about."_

_Hermione's heart was sinking further and further with each word he spoke. For this one night, she had felt special. The looks on everyone's faces when she, Hermione Granger, had entered the Great Hall on the arm of Victor Krum had made her heart soar. She had felt pretty - she had done her hair and her make up and many people had complemented her._

_And of course, Malfoy had to ruin the whole evening._

_When Hermione fell to the floor on the stairs after her argument with Ron, she remembered what Malfoy had said to her. Ron didn't think that she would actually get a date to the Yule Ball. Malfoy said she didn't deserve one._

_Maybe she didn't._

Why oh why did all these stupid memories have to involve Malfoy? He had just been so cruel. It was rather difficult for Hermione to fulfil Sirius's wish if all these negative memories came back to her. It would just make her angry and annoyed.

Thinking of Sirius, Hermione decided to go and talk to him about it, and get his opinion. Maybe he would be able to tell her why she kept remembering all these things.

She knocked on the door lightly, but there was no answer. She knocked again, harder, and the door moved. It was clearly not shut, and she pushed it open and gasped.

It was empty. The bedsheets were gone, everything was tidy and in place. She checked his wardrobe and there was nothing. It was like a hotel, and this room was ready for the next person who came along.

He'd gone.

Hermione sat on the end of his bed, and felt so close to bursting into tears. Why did he leave? She'd begged him not to, and yet -

He'd left a note. She noticed it on the bed next to her and picked it up quickly.

_Hermione_

_I know you wanted me to stay, but I just couldn't. I couldn't bear Remus and Tonks' tragedy and I knew it was my time to go on._

_Please do as you promised._

_Sirius_

Tears really did fall then, a splatter on the parchment smudging the ink of her name slightly. Now who was she to turn to when she needed proper advice? Zena was too mysterious, too far-out...

"Everything ok, Granger?"

Hermione's head snapped up and she saw Malfoy stood awkwardly in the doorway.

"I saw him go this morning. He said he didn't want to wake you but I think he didn't really want to say goodbye either."

Hermione looked back at the letter and wiped her eyes hastily. She always seemed to be crying nowadays. She must look like a complete and utter girly wimp. She stood, composing herself.

She saw Malfoy's eyes drift to her arms, where the dark bruises still blossomed from the night before. She tried to cross her arms to cover them up but she wasn't fooling anyone.

"Let me see those," Malfoy said, holding out his arms. He took one of her arms in his hands and studied them carefully. "Merlin, that man is a dick."

Hermione laughed, not expecting him to be so blunt. Her laughter died, however, when she saw Malfoy looking at her scar. The one she'd gained from Bellatrix at Malfoy Manor. _Mudblood._

He looked up at her, meeting her eyes, before running his finger over it delicately, making her hairs stand on end.

"I'm sorry," he said, dropping her arm suddenly so it swung back down to her side like a dead weight.

"What for?"

He frowned. "That," he said, nodding towards her arm.

Hermione paused, thinking of what to say. "It wasn't your fault. You couldn't have done anything more than you did."

"Or what? I would have been killed?" Draco laughed bitterly.

"I'm sorry for that... We never wanted that to happen, honestly. Well, I have most of my life, but the war makes you realise you don't wish death on anyone.. With a few exceptions, of course, like Voldemort. I had to watch it. Your face was frozen at my feet, staring up at me - oh, it was horrible..." she trailed off, rubbing her arms as if she were cold.

"It's ok," he reassured her. "So you wanted to kill me, huh?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "Don't even go there, Draco Malfoy," she warned.

Draco raised his eyebrows. "And why not?"

"You know I would have done anything to shut you up for good." She picked up Sirius' letter again. "Now let me leave, I have things to do."

"Are you sure your arms are ok, Hermione?" he asked, before she left completely.

She stopped. Had he realised that he'd just called her Hermione? She wasn't going to say anything, because that would make it awkward, but... First name terms was a little odd.

"I - yeah," she said, rubbing the bruises gently. "Thanks."

**Ooh first name basis... But will it last long? Draco's ideas may have changed but he's still Draco Malfoy..**


	15. Chapter 15

**Thanks again for the reviews - for those asking, the flashbacks are important and it will become clear towards the end of the story, but they also create an immediate contrast. In this chapter, Hermione meets an old friend...**

After a particularly bad night's sleep, with several recurring memories from her fourth year, Hermione decided to take another trip down to earth to see how her friends were getting on. It had now been near enough two months since the final battle, since she'd passed, and she knew that things would have moved on enough for her to want to see them.

Without specifying a place, she had found herself landing in the middle of Diagon Alley. The last time she had seen it, half of the shops were boarded up or had their windows blown out, and nobody walked through unless desperate. Now, however...

Now, the street had been cleaned, the shops refurbished, painted fresh bright colours, and what made Hermione's heart swell the most - there were _people_.

Clearly there had been a period of immense mourning, and of course this sadness would never just stop and go away, but the community had realised that now was the right time to start clearing up the mess that had been made, celebrating their triumph, and trying to take their lives as far back to normal as they could under the circumstances.

To Hermione's surprise, Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was amongst the shops that had re-opened. She stepped across the threshold curiously, doubting that it would be George behind the counter.

After weaving through the surprising amount of customers, Hermione made her way to the back. There _was_ a familiar redhead at the till - but it was Ron.

Her Ronald. She knew that, had she not died, she would have been staying with him every night, grasping his hand firmly as they slept to keep away both of their nightmares. They would have got through it, together.

She couldn't take that look of sadness that just edged into his eyes whenever he wasn't serving a customer and took herself away immediately, finding herself back at Hogwarts once more.

Hermione's eyes widened. Dozens of witches and wizards were striding about the halls and corridors muttering complex incantations, few of which she recognised but had read about briefly in her deep exploration of the Hogwarts library.

As she walked between them, she watched chunks of brick and statue flying through the air around her, trying to repair themselves from the Dark Magic which had destroyed them. She had not known that such Dark Magic could be reversed, but she had clearly underestimated the determination of Minerva McGonagall, who was leading the restoration just ten feet or so from Hermione.

"Splendid restorations, I must say," said a familiar voice from behind Hermione, causing her to jump in alarm and spin around.

"Sir Nick!" she exclaimed, a grin spreading her face and causing her cheeks to ache from lack of smiling.

He returned the smile before his face fell again dramatically. "A terrible shame, I must say, to hear of your early demise. If there were anyone less deserving of such a fate, it would be you, my dear."

Hermione was oddly touched, and a wave of nostalgia passed over her as she remembered her first year. Things had seemed so dramatic back then, with the troll and Harry's broomstick being jinxed during a match - all of those times she remembered having conversations with Nearly Headless Nick about it a few days later when he popped up during breakfast or dinner. He had, as many other things had been, a permanent feature which Hermione took for granted.

"Thank you, Sir Nicholas," she said gratefully, before gesturing to the people around her. "When did they begin this work?"

"Only about three days ago," said Nearly Headless Nick, drifting along next to Hermione. "It's going to take a lot of work, but I believe Hogwarts can be restored to the beauty it once was. Anything is possible."

"Anything is possible," Hermione muttered, deep in thought. If 'anything is possible' then surely her promise to Sirius wouldn't be so hard to keep? She was doing pretty well already, or so she thought.

"I remember you three when you were just little nippers," said Nick fondly, absent-mindedly flipping his head to the side and back again, making Hermione shudder involuntarily - luckily Nick didn't notice. "And of course, when you and I both fell victim to that terrible creature in your second year. How lucky we were that the marvellous Madame Pomfrey and Professor Sprout were able to come up with a remedy."

Hermione could feel the beginnings of a crying fit coming on at these memories, and so fought hard to keep her emotions in check, mentally trying to block out what Nick was saying so she wouldn't have to remember.

"- so what's it like up there now?" Nick finished, looking at Hermione expectantly. She blinked.

"Sorry, say that again?" she asked politely, hoping he wouldn't notice she hadn't been listening. He hadn't.

"In the place they call 'Limbo'. They do still have that place?"

"I - yes, they do!" Hermione said, surprised.

The thought hadn't even occurred to her that Nick and the other ghosts had been through the same place as she had. They had all had this year in 'Limbo' and had to live the same way she had.

"Minerva, if I may," Nick began, stopping Professor McGonagall as she made her way past. "I thought it would be of your interest if I informed you that Miss Hermione Granger is stood directly beside me."

Hermione's mouth fell open as McGonagall's eyes flittered around the space where she stood, trying to see her in some way. How had she not thought of this communication before?

"Please explain, Sir Nicholas," said McGonagall crisply.

"Well, Minerva, I'm not supposed to tell you this, but circumstances prevail, yes, yes - well, when one dies, one spends a year living in 'Limbo' before deciding whether to take place as a ghost or to, as they say, 'go on.'"

Professor McGonagall blinked rapidly a few times before she nodded for Nick to continue.

"These 'Limbo' inhabitants can also visit earth, but can only be seen by each other and by existing ghosts. And so Hermione Granger is stood beside me but you cannot see her."

"I'm sorry we brought all this damage upon the castle, Professor," Hermione said, nodding at Nick to repeat what she had said.

McGonagall looked surprised to say the least at the absurdity of the conversation but replied nonetheless. "Nonsense, Miss Granger. You three had saved the dire fate of the entirety of the wizarding world, and most likely the Muggle world too. We have nothing but gratitude."

"Thank you," Hermione whispered. "I wish you could hear me."

Nick again played messenger, which was slightly awkward but the only way.

"Miss Granger, nothing would make me happier than to hear your voice once more. It has been - difficult, adjusting to the loss of life which occurred here. But again, we can only thank you and wish for your life to be better than it once was."

"Without all the people I love, my life is worthless," Hermione said, her emotions washing over her suddenly. "I'm sorry, I have to go."

She found herself sitting on the island on the lake, and forced herself not to cry. She had to stop crying so much. She had to be strong.

Hermione could communicate with a human on earth, albeit through a ghost. Surely that meant she could communicate with any human through any ghost - and so could anyone else in 'Limbo'.

So could Fred.


	16. Chapter 16

**Thanks to all who have been reviewing, I appreciate it :) short chapter, sorry!**

Hermione raced back to her apartment block and took the lift directly past her floor and to Fred's. She had to tell him immediately what she had discovered.

If she could find a ghost that was willing to be a messenger, even for 10 minutes, between the twins, she knew they could settle the things that they needed to and at least find some more closure. Hermione could tell there were things that Fred wanted to say to George and half of his despair came from his inability to do so.

"Fred!" she called, banging on his door loudly. "Fred, open up! I've got something amazing to tell you! Please, open the door!"

There was no answer, and Hermione continued to bang and shout until Fred's neighbour opened the door looking irritable.

"He left about 5 minutes ago, love. Said something about floor 6. Now shut up and bugger off," he muttered, slamming his door shut.

Hermione was too desperate to tell Fred her ingenious plan to care about the man's rudeness, and she bounded off down the corridor again. As soon as the lift doors pinged open she began to run towards her flat, thinking he must have gone there, but she saw the door to Malfoy's flat open and peered inside.

Fred had Malfoy pinned against the wall and was threatening him angrily, but Malfoy was making no move to attack him back. Neither were used to fighting without wands, and so Hermione doubted it would have gone too far if she hadn't stepped in immediately.

"Fred Weasley, just what do you think you're doing?" she demanded loudly as she pushed through the doorway. "Put him down at once!"

Fred looked around angrily and looked imploringly at Hermione as if she were being unreasonable, but she raised her eyebrows at him and he dropped Malfoy's collar. Draco immediately began to smooth out the creases in his shirt.

Hermione opened her mouth to speak but Fred had barged past her and down the corridor. She ran to the doorway after him.

"Fred, wait! I've got something really important to tell you!" she called desperately.

"I'm sure it can wait until you're finished talking to Malfoy, can't it?" Fred snapped as the lift doors pinged shut. Hermione stared exasperated and open-mouthed for a moment before turning around and staring at Malfoy.

"Are you going to tell me what that was about?"

He shrugged, avoiding her eyes and rolling up his sleeves.

"Why didn't you fight back?"

He looked up then, and sighed. "Because I deserved it. What have I ever been to him, or to you, but an utter arsehole?"

Hermione's mouth opened but nothing came out. Somehow, she felt the need to defend him but there was nothing she could say to counter his argument.

"Exactly. I deserve everything I get," Draco said, as Hermione shut the door behind her and walked into his lounge.

"Well..." she began, unsure of herself. "You did help me the other night. I was sure that guy was going to hurt me."

Something flashed through Draco's eyes.

"A man should never physically hurt a woman, no matter who she may be or what she has done."

Although she had taken the memory and placed it in the Pensieve, one line that she'd dwelled on suddenly pushed its way to the front of her mind.

_"You're lucky I don't hit girls, but believe me, you _will_ pay."_

"What?"

Hermione looked up, startled. Draco was looking at her with a kind of apprehension. Had she muttered that aloud?

"Nothing!" she said quickly. "You're right. He was definitely not a gentleman. You were though."

A smug smile crept onto Draco's lips. "Of course I was. I _define_ gentleman."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh you do, do you?"

"Well yes," he grinned smugly again, jumping backwards onto the squishy sofa with his arms behind his head. Hermione had never seen him look so... _normal_. So casual, comfortable. It was rather disconcerting, but it made her smile.

"Have - have you been down to earth recently?" Hermione ventured, wanting to tell someone about what she'd found.

Draco's face clouded slightly for a moment but he covered it up quickly. He sat up on the sofa and leaned against the arm. "No. I can't - I can't face it. All those people I used to know but I can't speak to... albeit most of them are locked away, like I would have been," he laughed bitterly.

"You wouldn't have," Hermione said, a pang of sadness hitting her as she realised that he was even more alone than she was. "I would have testified for you."

"No you wouldn't," Malfoy said surely. "You say that now because we're civil, almost - friends. But go back a few months or so and you would have sent me down in an instant. Why wouldn't you? I've said it before and I'll say it again. I deserved it."

Was this what Sirius meant? Did Malfoy know what he'd done wrong? Of course, that didn't just excuse it, but he seemed so bitter and judging of his old self that Hermione almost felt bad for doing the same. And was Draco reaching out here, and asking for friendship? 'Civil, almost - friends.'

"I'll be your friend if you want me to be," she said cautiously, sitting down at the other end of the sofa.

Draco peered up through the curtain of blond hair covering his eyes and looked awkward. "You'd actually want to be my friend after all I've done to you?"

Hermione hesitated. Here were these constant reminders of what he'd done, and yet - he had changed so. Did he not deserve just one more chance?

"Yes," she decided. "Everyone deserves a second chance. I'll be your friend."


	17. Chapter 17

**Sorry for the last chapter being _so_ short, I keep getting writer's block, argh :( this one is slightly longer though!**

A couple of months passed and Hermione had settled down into the life of 'Limbo'. She was still reliving memories in her sleep, although far less frequently. She had managed to tell Fred about what she'd discovered, although he was still being off with her and flat-out refused to go down to earth at all.

"Have you even been yet?" Hermione asked, incredulous.

"No," Fred had muttered, looking annoyed as if Hermione were mocking him.

Hermione had kept true to her word, being 'friends' with Draco Malfoy. They regularly went for coffee and Hermione sometimes felt herself letting her head fall back in the scorching summer sunshine and pondering what her life had become. If someone had told her 4 months ago she would be sat in 'Limbo' drinking coffee in the sun with Draco Malfoy she would have laughed in their face. She chuckled.

"What?" Draco said, opening one eye and raising an eyebrow.

"Nothing," Hermione had smiled. "This is weird, isn't it?"

A silence fell, not awkward, and smile spread across Malfoy's face. "It is weird," he said, knowing what she meant.

"I'm glad though. You're going to have to help me convince Fred to go and speak to George, by the way."

Draco scoffed. "Right, because he wants anything to do with me, Granger."

He'd called her Granger again. Hermione was a little unsure of where they stood on names because sometimes he said Granger, and sometimes, perhaps a little less often, he would call her Hermione.

"He just needs to realise that everyone deserves a second chance, Draco," Hermione replied, squinting in the bright light. The use of his given name did not go amiss.

"Maybe," Draco muttered, avoiding her gaze.

He didn't really ever expect the Weasleys to forgive him for what he had done. He wasn't particularly fond of them anyway, but the close-knit family unit filled him with a pang of jealousy every time he thought about it. Nobody cared for him that way, except perhaps his mother.

Hermione looked as if she wanted to say something, but knew he wouldn't like it. He rolled his eyes and sighed. "What is it?"

She looked startled, and then a little sheepish at being so easily read.

"Draco," she began slowly, clearly making use of his first name as if there was going to be something unpleasant said afterwards. "Have you ever thought about - about visiting your body?"

His silvery eyes widened for a moment before he covered it up again with a neutral expression.

"Why would I want to do that?" he laughed. "There's probably nothing left of it by now. It'll just be bones."

His voice rose a little unintentionally towards the end of his sentence and Hermione leaned forward, her face comforting, and placed her hand tentatively on top of his. "It might give you some closure."

Draco almost reluctantly pulled his hand away and stood. "I don't want to talk about it," he repeated, reminding Hermione of a conversation they had had months ago. Instead of letting him go this time, Hermione chased after him.

"You should talk about it, Draco," she said. "It'll make you feel better. I know I'd feel more at ease if I could get some things off my chest, and I'd imagine you'd feel the s-"

"Do you honestly think I want to talk about that kind of thing with _you_?" Draco hissed, turning to face her and glancing around to make sure nobody was looking.

Hermione's face filled with surprise and something Draco thought could be hurt, and he realised how he had sounded.

"Hermione, that's not what I meant. I -"

"Forget it," she snapped, pushing past him. "I was only trying to help. Fix things yourself, we'll see how bloody far you'll get."

As she stormed away, he watched her with that feeling you get when you know you've hurt someone. "Wait! Come on, let me explain!"

There was no reply, and he sighed, exasperated. He had merely meant that discussing the fate of his body with a girl - and a girl on the side of the light who didn't know the extent which some Dark wizards went to with disposing of a body - would not have been at all pleasant. Now she obviously thought that he didn't want to talk to her about things.

Hermione was hurt. After all she had been through with him, and the way she had befriended him and maybe even started to trust him, and then he embarrassed her like that. She felt humiliated.

She ignored Draco over the next week. It was actually rather difficult, because she was so bored, but every time she felt herself itching to open the door she remembered what he had said and her cheeks burned in embarrassment and anger.

He knocked on her door at least twice a day and Hermione was a little tired of it. Why did he want to speak to her so badly? Surely he could find something else to do while she was angry.

But he couldn't find anything else to do, could he? Hermione remembered almost guiltily that he was probably in a worse off situation than she was. She could go and visit Fred or Zena (Sirius's old room had recently been occupied, but the occupant had not yet left their room). Draco didn't have anyone else here except Hermione, and maybe that was why he was so intent on becoming her friend.

In fact, Hermione thought bitterly, if one of his old friends was up here he probably wouldn't be talking to her at all.

She stood angrily, unaware of her overreaction, and slammed her way into the corridor, passing a startled Malfoy who was clearly just about to try and talk to her again.

"Leave me alone," she said matter-of-factly before he'd had chance to open her mouth, and this time Draco looked angry too.

"You know what," he spat. "Forget it. You can fuck off."

Both stormed away in different directions with similar anger. An unbiased bystander would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation when both of them clearly enjoyed the other's company.

Hermione had stamped her way to the building which would take her for a visit down to earth, and she dropped in at Hogwarts once more to see how the restorations were going.

Spectacularly would be the correct word to describe it. In just a couple of weeks the castle was nearly back to new once more, with all the walls mended and doors back in place. Of course, it still needed polishing and general maintenance, but the change was just incredible. Hermione had to catch her breath.

"Fantastic, isn't it?"

Hermione jumped. Nearly Headless Nick seemed to make a point of sneaking up on her and catching her out.

"It's beautiful. I think we spent so long here we took for granted how beautiful the place actually is. I feel like a first year again!" she smiled.

"Ah, if only, my dear, if only," Nick said dramatically, letting his head fall to the side. "It probably isn't best for you to come down here too much, you know."

"I - what?"

Nick sighed and shook his head. "Perhaps they don't warn you about that any more. But visiting a place you once resided or visited often can make you too attached to life down here and can affect your decision to 'stay' or to 'go on'."

"I'd never really thought about it that way," Hermione pondered, looking around her awkwardly.

Nick suddenly pushed his head back in line with his neck and turned to her. "You may think you know what you want, Miss Granger, but I must remind you - the people who you would stay down here to see will one day soon pass away too, and that day comes faster than you would think. Once you're a ghost, there's no turning back."

He looked downcast and tired, and Hermione would have reached out and touched his arm if she had been able to. "Do you regret it, Sir Nicholas?"

"Sometimes. It gets awfully lonely sometimes. And seeing the students eat all that _food_..."

Hermione laughed and the melancholy atmosphere was broken. "Thank you for the advice, Sir Nick. I think this may be my last visit to Hogwarts castle."

Nick nodded with a sad smile, knowing the importance of that statement, and waved her farewell as she wished in her mind to be taken elsewhere and the vacuum-like sensation pulled her upwards once more.

As Hermione was pulled upwards, another place popped into her mind and she felt herself being transported there. Malfoy Manor.

**Oh.. Why's Hermione going to Malfoy Manor?**


	18. Chapter 18

**Thanks for the reviews - and can I just say, I have already written up to Chapter 26, so if there's any questions I've left unanswered they're likely to be answered later on!**

**Ok, I warn you all that this chapter contains mentions of self-harming, although it is a one-off and not a theme within this story.**

Hermione didn't know why she'd gone there. Of course, she didn't go directly into the house, but appeared outside the tall, imposing wrought-iron gates.

She shuddered and looked around, before realising that nobody could see or hurt her anyway.

Hermione said to herself that she didn't know why she'd gone there, but she knew really, deep down. She didn't know why she'd gone there now, because she was still pissed off with Draco, but she knew it would take her a long time and she had to start now.

She was going to find Draco Malfoy's body.

Of course she knew what Draco had said would probably be right and it would be a pile of bones by now, but she wanted him to know where his final resting place was, so he could put it behind him.

And so she started the long walk around the wall of Malfoy Manor and its grounds. She knew she would have to come back many times to complete her search, and after about an hour or so she memorised her place and returned home to sleep, exhausted.

_"I know you and your little friends are up to something Potter, and I will find out what it is if it's the last thing I do!"_

_"Oh how I wish it were, Malfoy," Hermione muttered, rolling her eyes._

_"What was that, Mudblood? Speaking out of turn again are we? I would have thought you'd learned your place by now, but evidently not."_

_Hermione sneered at him and stormed away, determined not to let him see her cry. She could hear Harry trying to detain Ron from punching Malfoy behind her and so she ran as far as she could to somewhere she wouldn't be found and cried and cried until there was nothing left._

Hermione shifted uncomfortably in her sleep, her legs tangled in the covers.

_Hermione had to run, keep running, otherwise the stupid Inquisitorial Squad would catch her and she'd be dragged before Umbridge and forced to cut her own hand open like Harry was._

_Oh boy, Marrietta Edgecombe's face was gonna be a picture! Hermione secretly smiled to herself and praised herself on her jinxing skills, but she wasn't checking where she was going and fell over something that appeared not to exist - a trip jinx._

_"Well well well, what do we have here?" drawled a familiar voice. Hermione's heart sank._

_"Oh, it's Granger," Malfoy laughed cruelly as she sat up, rubbing her elbow where she had fell and straightening her skirt. "I told you I'd find out what you were up to, didn't I? Not so clever now, eh?"_

_Hermione stood and glared defiantly at Malfoy, determined to see him eye-to-eye. Since he'd joined the Inquisitorial Squad, the power had gone to his head and he'd been worse than ever._

_"What shall I do with you then?" he pondered falsely, tapping his pointed chin as if deep in thought. "I could hand you in to Professor Umbridge, of course, but that would just be no fun. If I let you go, however, you'll be indebted to me. I can make you do whatever I want."_

_Hermione looked disgusted, not sure where he was taking the conversation, and he took one look at her face and laughed._

_"Merlin no, Granger, I wouldn't come near you with a ten-foot pole. But I can make your life hell, I can humiliate you, I can do what I want."_

_"Why?" Hermione asked, breathless._

_"Because I can," Malfoy said simply, his slicked-back hair defining his facial expressions. "Now go. Run along to your friends - that is, if we haven't caught them."_

_Hermione made to leave, terrified, but Malfoy reached out with such speed Hermione gasped. With his Quidditch reflexes he grasped the front of her robes and sneered into her face aggressively._

_"Don't think this means I'm going soft on you. Quite the contrary. When I'm finished with you, everybody else will see you for the dirty, filthy, disgusting, ugly, bushy-haired bookworm that you are. Seriously, have you seen the state of yourself?" he added, dropping her robes suddenly and wiping his hands as if they were muddy. "You disgust me. Go."_

_Hermione didn't need telling twice. She ran to the nearest girls' bathroom, obviously empty so late at night and far away from any dormitories, and slammed the door behind her with such force a mirror on the opposite wall shattered. Its broken pieces fell to the floor and glinted in the candlelight._

_Heart-wrenching sobs escaped her as she slid to the floor, her back against the wooden door. She had never been so scared in her life, even when facing a troll, and she felt utterly worthless. She had always told herself what Malfoy said didn't matter to her, because his opinion wasn't worth having, but to be degraded in such a way made Hermione feel like shit. She was only human, after all._

_She stood, tears still falling from her eyes, and looked at her reflection in the mirror beside the broken one. Was there anything really wrong with her? She poked her cheek, prodded her stomach, and even lifted her skirt slightly to check her thighs weren't fat._

_Why was she disgusting?_

_A sudden desire flashed through her and she snatched up a broken piece of glass, not caring if it cut her fingers, and pulled it hard across the skin on her stomach._

_As if this were some kind of test, she breathed a sigh and pulled the glass again, cutting away all the bad things, everything that made her worthless, everything that made her disgusting._

Hermione woke with a start, tears streaming down her face. Shadows crossed her bed; it was still dark. The clock on her bedside table said 1:30am.

That was the first and only time she had ever harmed herself, and she couldn't regret it more. There were still some scars on the side of her stomach that nobody had ever seen and she couldn't believe that Malfoy had reduced her to such a thing. It was almost as if he'd won.

Despite the dream being about Malfoy and what he had done to her, Hermione knew she needed one person right now - Draco. Not Malfoy, the boy who had cruelly taunted throughout school, but Draco, the man she had met up here in her new life who had been oh-so-different. She just needed a hug.

Not caring she was in her pyjamas, Hermione pulled her dressing gown around her and shuffled out of her door towards his. She tried to knock loud enough to wake him up, but not loud enough to wake others.

After a few minutes she heard a grunt and assumed this meant he was getting up. She looked around the corridor nervously, not used to being out at such a late time, and was still turned the other way when Draco opened the door.

"Oh, it's you. What do you think you're doing waking me up at this hour? I thought I told you to -" he stopped as Hermione turned to face him and he saw her tear-stained cheeks.

"Hey," he said, more softly. "What's up? Bad dream?"

Hermione nodded and bit her lip to stop herself from crying again, and Draco pulled her inside and shut the door before he wrapped both his arms around her and hugged her tightly.

"It's ok," he said, not wanting to pry. "Whatever it was, it's over now. It's never going to happen again. Ok? Remember that. It won't happen again."

To Hermione, those words meant more than he would ever know.

**This memory/flashback will be important later in the story (as will the others), so watch out...**

**Next chapter - Fred and George...**


	19. Chapter 19

**And here it is - Fred and George.**

And so, just like that, things were back to how they were. Hermione and Draco went out for coffee, Hermione continued her search around the Malfoy grounds, and spent a lot of time trying to persuade Fred to go and speak to George.

"If you could just talk to him one more time, Fred, I know you'd feel miles better," she said kindly.

"I don't want to," Fred muttered. Ever since he'd been here Hermione had noticed the change in his attitude. He was nastier, bitter, and often got angry - although not as angry as the time Hermione had fled his apartment.

They were currently sat in Hermione's lounge with a cup of tea, and she was continuing to persuade him.

"You do. I know you do. You're just scared," Hermione said.

Fred looked embarrassed. "I am not _scared_," he insisted.

"You are," Hermione said softly. "There's nothing to be afraid of. Trust me, I was bloody terrified, but I had to get over it to make myself feel better and try to continue as best I could. If you want, I could come with you?"

Fred looked up, a pained expression on his face. "You'd do that for me?"

"Of course I would!" she insisted, surprised that he'd think otherwise. "As if I wouldn't. You could have asked me at any time, Fred, and I would have been happy to come with you."

"I - I never thought," he muttered, running his hand through his red hair and staring into his teacup.

"I think the sooner we get this over with, the better," Hermione said decisively, standing up and grabbing Fred's hand. "Come on, let's go."

Fred allowed her to pull him to his feet, looking alarmed. "What, now?"

"No time like the present!"

They left her apartment, not seeing Draco unlocking his door a few feet away, nor his glance at their entwined hands. For some reason unknown to him, he felt a little disappointment when he saw the pair disappear down into the lift. It's not like he was bothered, he told himself, if Hermione held someone's hand. She'd been on a date and it hadn't bothered him. Much.

He didn't know why it bothered him - it wasn't as if he fancied her or anything, was it? It was Hermione Granger. Not that there was anything wrong with her, or that he was thinking of blood status (he shuddered at this - what a fool he used to be), but he had taunted her for 7 years. He was surprised she'd even wanted to become his friend.

Draco sighed and pushed his way irritably into his room.

"What on earth was that?" Fred exclaimed at the vacuum-like sensation as the pair landed in Diagon Alley.

"It's just the way we travel down to earth," Hermione said matter-of-factly. "Doesn't it look so much better?"

Fred looked around at the glossy bright street and his face stretched into a smile - his first for some months. He had not seen anything on earth since he had died, and the transformation of Diagon Alley was something of a pleasant surprise. His smile faltered, however, as his gaze fell upon Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

"Last time I was down here," Hermione began, slightly nervous, "I took the liberty of looking into which ghosts live around here."

Fred whipped his head around to look at her, his eyes wide as if he were a rabbit caught in headlights.

"Hey," Hermione said reassuringly, taking his hand again. "It's ok. Honestly. You need to do this."

He swallowed and nodded, so she continued. "There's a lovely lady who lives around here called Amelia Lockhart - no relation, as far as I am aware, to our dear old Professor Gilderoy Lockhart," Hermione added, chuckling. "Now, I'm not entirely sure where to find her but Sir Nicholas said she often hangs around waiting for other ghosts to visit the alley, so if we look around and call her name she might hear us."

Fred nodded, before grabbing Hermione's arm suddenly with such force she hissed in pain. "Look, Hermione, it's Neville!"

Sure enough, Neville was hurrying past them, checking his watch nervously and patting down his hair.

"Ouch, Fred, you're hurting me."

"Oh! Sorry," said Fred sheepishly, realising how hard he had gripped in his excitement and dropping her arm.

"I wonder where he was off to?" Hermione pondered aloud, but the question was answered immediately as she saw Neville bound up to an excitedly waiting Hannah Abbott and kiss her on the cheek.

"Well I'll be damned!" Fred chuckled. "Our Neville's on a date!"

Hermione smiled fondly, a sense of pride and happiness swelling within her. If anyone deserved to be happy, Neville was certainly at the top of the list. As Neville and Hannah made their way into the Leaky Cauldron, Hermione turned back and sighed.

"Come on then. Erm... Amelia? Amelia Lockhart?" she called tentatively, not wanting to sound like she was shouting a servant or something.

Suddenly, a translucent head popped out of the doorway to Flourish and Blotts and grinned at the pair. "Did someone call?"

"Are you Amelia?" Hermione asked, relieved.

"I most certainly am, my dear," she smiled. She was a young girl, no older than twenty-five, and wore a beautiful Victorian dress, her hair pinned up into ringlets. "How may I help you?"

Hermione was unsure where to begin. "I - My name is Hermione Granger. I recently visited Hogwarts and talked to Sir Nicholas -"

"- de Mimsy-Porpington? Oh yes, we have met! Charming fellow, I must say!"

"Yes, lovely... Well, I asked him to suggest another ghost he knew who resided in Diagon Alley who would be able to help me and my friend here communicate."

"And he recommended me? Why, he gets lovelier by the minute. As for helping you, I would be most obliged, but only if you can tell me that it is the right thing to do and not a habit - it is most unhealthy to do so frequently. I would know," she added sadly, her beautiful face downcast.

"Oh, I am sorry," Hermione said sadly, looking at Amelia with sympathy. "I can assure you this is the only time Fred will be communicating - he just needs to settle things with his twin, George."

Amelia looked up suddenly, her face even more saddened. "You have a twin? Oh my dear, how difficult this must be for you! You have not been to see him yet? Well we must go immediately! Lead the way, Miss Granger!" she said dramatically.

Hermione did so at once, weaving her way through the crowds and checking over her shoulder every few seconds to make sure Fred and Amelia were still behind her, before slipping inside Weasley's Wizard Wheezes and trying to ignore Ron as she passed through into the back room. Of course she still missed him, but was surprised to notice that she didn't feel the heavy aching in her heart that she had when they had first been parted.

"He'll be up here, won't he Fred?" she asked, pausing at the bottom of a staircase.

Fred swallowed painfully and nodded.

"Ok, let's go before you change your mind," Hermione muttered determinedly.

George was sat on his sofa, reading the Daily Prophet. He looked miserable and lonely, and it made Hermione's heart ache.

"George?" ventured Amelia.

George jumped violently and dropped his Daily Prophet, the pages falling to the floor. "Who on earth are you?"

Amelia smiled. "Forgive me. My name is Amelia Lockhart, and I am a ghost. It was requested that I come and visit you by Hermione Granger and Fred Weasley."

George's mouth fell open and he looked at her with confusion and disbelief. "They're dead," he stated. "Is this some kind of joke?"

"No, of course not," Amelia said, putting her hand to her heart and looking offended. "They're kind of ghosts too, but not properly, and they're stood right next to me."

This was a lot of information for George to take in, and he dropped himself back onto the sofa, rubbing his face with his hands.

"I can see and talk to them, but you can't. So I'm here to communicate between you. But only once - to settle things and put things straight."

"Oh come on, George," Fred joked nervously. "Stop being such a miserable sod."

Amelia smiled. "He said 'Oh come on, George, stop being such a miserable sod.'"

George laughed suddenly, recognising Fred's phrasing and looking up hopefully. "Is that really you Fred? Oh fuck, I miss you. I don't know what to do when I turn to say something to you and you're not there."

"It's the same for me, Georgie. I sit up there and I just want you to be there with me. You've always been my life and now you've gone I feel like... like half of me has died."

As the twins spilled their feelings out to one another, through Amelia, Hermione slipped out of the door and waited on the bottom stair. This was something between the two of them, and she had no right to listen. She only hoped Fred would start getting better from here.

**I know you would all probably would have liked to hear the full conversation between Fred and George, but I can't help feeling that Hermione would know when to give them space and she probably wouldn't feel comfortable hearing the two share their emotions that way.**

**Next chapter - does Draco mention what he saw?**


	20. Chapter 20

**Thank you for your reviews guys :)**

Hermione had taken Fred back to 'Limbo', but then told him that there was something personal she needed to go and do before she came back too and he nodded, before asking if she needed any support, like she had with him.

"No, no," she smiled. "I'll be fine!"

She couldn't exactly have him come down to earth with her and search the boundaries of Malfoy Manor for a dead body, could she?

She was dropped in exactly the same place as she had been last time so she could resume her search without missing a spot. She had to keep reminding herself that she didn't have a wand any more either, so her search was thoroughly tiring.

Hermione searched through the undergrowth while trying to avoid getting her hair stuck in the numerous thorny branches which hung above her head. If only the Manor wasn't so _big_.

She could tell she was nearly halfway around, or she presumed she was judging by her estimate of the perimeter and her approximate area covered, but it was tiring her out. Nearly every day or every other day for about three weeks she had searched for at least an hour or two.

A crushing thought flittered into her mind. What if she never found it? What if it had been moved? What if Draco had been wrong? What if -

She couldn't take these what ifs and decided to give up for today.

Instead of going to her own door, however, she found herself walking to Draco's. She enjoyed spending time with him, and they had become actually rather close. It surprised her.

His door was on the latch so she entered and saw Draco lying on his front on his bed, an open book in his hands and his feet in the air. Hermione smiled. It was almost child-like, but he looked so comfortable and content.

Of course, she couldn't have him being content, so she ran towards the bed and jumped on the empty side, making Draco drop his book in surprise. He had to steady himself before he fell off the side of the bed, and Hermione laughed.

"Blimey, Hermione," Draco said dramatically, holding his chest as if his heart were beating ten to one. "You shouldn't creep up on people like that, you could scare them to death! Oh wait..."

When she first arrived, Hermione would have been sensitive about death, but now she laughed loudly at Draco's joke and swatted his arm.

"Yeah, I would hate to kill you, Draco," she grinned.

"Of course you would," Draco smirked back, turning onto his side so he was facing Hermione like she was him. Neither realised it, but they were actually in rather an intimate position, laid next to one another and facing the other.

"You're so vain," she smiled.

"Hey! There's nothing wrong with taking pride in your appearance. And when you look this good, it's a necessity," Draco smirked, winking.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh you're so full of yourself," she said, but she was smiling. "What is it with you, anyway? Why do you always look like you've just been to a wedding or something? Stop looking so good all of the time!"

Draco raised his eyebrow, seeing an opportunity for teasing. "Oh, so I look good do I, Granger?"

Hermione flushed, knowing he was teasing her and knowing she was rubbish at that sort of thing. "Oh you know what I meant, Draco," she narrowed her eyes. "I meant you always look perfect."

Draco's eyebrow raised even further and his smirk widened. Hermione looked even more flustered. "Oh you know that's not what I meant either! I meant I never catch you wandering around in your pyjamas or anything. Stop trying to wind me up!"

Draco laughed, a proper, deep laugh. It caught Hermione by surprise, because she wasn't used to hearing it, but it was incredibly infectious and she began to laugh too.

"I don't know what you're worrying about," Draco said, reaching out and pushing Hermione's hair out of her eyes. "You always look good too, Granger."

Hermione caught her breath, not used to the intimacy - and especially not from Draco Malfoy. His fingers were still touching her temple, and she felt something flitter through her stomach involuntarily. She wasn't sure if he'd meant it to come out like that but it most certainly had, and now they were looking into each others' eyes or some sort of thing like that. What the hell did she know?

"So is reading all you've been doing all day?" she asked, suddenly rolling onto her back so she was staring at the ceiling. There was a short pause before Draco answered.

"Um, yeah, pretty much. I saw you and Weasley going out earlier. Looked pretty close," Draco said, trying to be casual.

"Close?" Hermione repeated, confused.

"Holding hands and everything. Didn't know you were one for PDAs, Granger," he drawled.

Hermione was confused. So it was Granger again, even though he wasn't teasing? And what on earth was he talking about with Fred? She laughed, bemused.

"What on earth are you on about, _Malfoy_?" she asked, deliberately emphasising the use of his last name.

Draco frowned, annoyed that she'd called him that. Annoyed that she was denying what he'd so obviously seen with his own eyes.

"You could just tell me if you and Weasley have a thing going on, you know," Draco said bitterly.

"Wha - me and _Fred_?" Hermione said, incredulous. "I don't know what you've been looking at, _Malfoy,_ but there is nothing going on between me and Fred!"

Draco glared at the ceiling. "Didn't look that way to me."

"I was being supportive!" Hermione said angrily, getting up. "I was taking him down to see George! He hasn't been since he arrived and it did him some bloody good! I am allowed friends you know. He was nicer than you're being!"

Draco felt like some kind of spoilt child who wasn't getting his own way. "Fine!" he shouted. "If I'm such a shit friend you shouldn't have even bothered in the first place! Go and bum Weasley if he's so fucking nice!"

"Fine!" Hermione shouted, equally as loud, before stamping out of his room and slamming the door. "Screw you!"

**Oh why can't they just get along? A shock announcement from Zena in the next chapter...**


	21. Chapter 21

**Thanks for your reviews, I appreciate every single one! :D**

Another argument. But this time Hermione and Draco went out of their way to avoid each other, and if they were in each other's presence, they glared so hard it was surprising they didn't burn to the ground.

Hermione felt as if she were back at school. It was all very childish, but it brought back memories of when she would glare at him in corridors or across the Potions classroom every time Professor Snape would unfairly give Draco points. She knew he wasn't the same person and yet he could still make her feel this kind of anger.

Zena found it all rather amusing. "You two are so alike," she laughed dreamily.

"Alike?" Hermione scoffed, taking a sip of her steaming hot chocolate. "Don't make me laugh. I'm nothing like him. He's vile."

"You don't really think that."

Hermione glared. "Yes I do. If I didn't mean it I wouldn't say it."

At this Zena laughed again and raised her eyebrows. "Are you telling me that you've never said something you haven't meant? In that case, you've probably been a massive bitch."

Hermione's mouth dropped open in shock at Zena's blunt words, but realised she was speaking the truth and shook her head in disbelief. "What _is _it with you?"

Zena smiled knowingly but said nothing.

The pair were sat outside a café in the centre, but Hermione had made sure it was not the one she and Draco usually went to. October was nearly over and Hermione had a thick cardigan on, but wished she'd brought a jacket. As far as October days went, there was not a cloud in the sky, and so the girls had braved the decision to sit outside for perhaps the last time that year.

"God, who'd have thought it would be so difficult? So much for dying being the easy way out. You've gotta bloody live up here or go to hell or be a stupid ghost," Hermione ranted.

"Yeah, I thought it would be the easy way out. It wasn't, but I'm considerably happier up here than I was down there," said Zena.

Hermione realised in that moment that she had never asked Zena how she had died. Was she really that stuck up and self-absorbed?

"What happened?" she asked quietly.

Zena, normally dreamy and happy, looked downcast and sad. "I killed myself," she whispered.

Hermione covered her hands with her mouth, horrified. Had she known she would have been more considerate, she would have - Well, what else would she have done? Perhaps it was a good thing she hadn't known until now. It hadn't clouded her judgement on Zena's personality and she hadn't had to tip-toe around what she said in case she thought it may have made her upset.

"It's ok," Zena said quickly. "I'm so much happier. Really."

Hermione removed her hands from her mouth and reached out with one to pat Zena's arm comfortingly.

"Thanks," Zena gave a small smile. "I didn't have a very nice family. They didn't like what I was, because they were Muggles. I was constantly bullied, and blamed for what was happening to the world because of You-Know-Who. They grouped all wizards together as bad people and didn't listen to me when I told them that I was fighting on the good side. They didn't think there even was a good side. There was nowhere else I could go. I couldn't take it. Just one quick spell..."

She trailed off and Hermione realised she had tears on her cheeks and wiped them away hastily, not wanting Zena to see. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be," Zena said decisively. "It's all the past. The past doesn't matter any more. Nothing in your past matters. Only the present."

She said this with a meaningful look and Hermione couldn't help but wonder if she was talking about Draco and how he had changed since when Hermione was younger. She didn't voice this opinion, though, not wanting to bring him up again. How the hell did Zena always know what she was thinking?

She didn't like not talking to him. They had spent time together every day, getting to know one another properly without prejudice or worry about what others were saying about them. Hermione liked it. She liked him. He was smart and funny, and knew how to make her laugh. She sighed.

"Well well well," came a voice Hermione hadn't heard for a long time.

She whipped her head around and caught sight of those dark brown locks and the eyes that had once made her melt. Draco's words echoed in her mind. _"The prick."_

"What the hell do you want? Leave us alone," Hermione snapped.

"It's rather rude to talk to a Ministry employee that way, Miss Granger," Will said calmly, pulling up a chair and sitting himself down uninvited.

"I said, what do you want?" Hermione said through gritted teeth, her grip on her glass tightening.

Will seemed to enjoy making her angry and leaned back against the chair, stretching out his legs and placing his arms behind his head. "Just came for a little catch up. It _has_ been a long time, hasn't it?"

Hermione caught the disgusting glint in his eye and turned up her nose, looking down on him with a sneer.

"Checking me out, are we?" he smirked, before leaning forward and saying with a wink, "Ever want a good time, Hermione, you know where I am. Just don't be a bitch like last time."

Hermione stood suddenly in anger, and snarled at him. "We all know what happened last time. You're lucky I haven't reported you, but it's never too late. You should watch your back."

He laughed, sparking more annoyance within Hermione. "You think they'd believe you, a boring little Muggleborn, over me, a respected Ministry employee?"

Hermione had opened her mouth to retort when Zena stood beside her and she felt her hand on her arm. "They will believe her when they get reports of exactly the same thing happening to me. And several other girls who may not have been so lucky as to escape you like we did. You are a disgusting, filthy letch, and if you come near either of us any time soon, you'll never know your arse from your elbow ever again. Get out of my sight."

Hermione's jaw had dropped open. So that was why Zena had warned her? She hadn't just heard about Will Mack, but she had fallen for his trick too? Merlin, Hermione thought, I really _have_ been self-absorbed.

Will looked extremely angry at being addressed in such a way, but knew Zena was right, and so stood and stormed down the little street towards the fountain plaza.

"Holy shit," Hermione breathed. "Why didn't you tell me? Why didn't you tell me anything?"

"I don't like to talk about myself," Zena said, sitting down and sighing. She paused. "But there is one more thing I have to tell you."

"What?" Hermione asked, alarmed.

Zena had the decency to look sheepish. "I died one year ago tomorrow."

It took Hermione a moment to process what Zena had said. "Wait - so that means..."

Zena nodded. "I'm leaving."

**Oh poor Hermione! Zena is leaving. Also, how much of a jerk is Will?**

**Also, I've been asked to post this link to petition against the removal of stories from ff! Please take a look!  
>www. change (dot org) petitions/ fanfiction- net-stop-the- destruction-of- fanfiction-net  
><strong>


	22. Chapter 22

**Sorry it's been a few days! I was reading the '50 Shades' trilogy. Anyway, the less said about that the better, so on with the chapter..**

Hermione wondered why nobody bothered giving her any warning about these things. Well, at least Zena had given her a day's notice - Sirius had only left a note.

She supposed that she'd just took it for granted that all her friends up here would be around for the same time as she was, but now she came to think about it, most of the people she lived around had been living here before she arrived. They'd died before she had, and so they would be 'going on' before she did.

Hermione didn't want Zena to go. She was the only female friend that Hermione had up here, and at the moment, bar Fred, the only person who wanted to talk to her. She always gave her the right advice, always knew what she was thinking...

How would she live another 6 months without her?

6 months? Hermione breathed deeply. She'd already been here half of her time and she'd barely noticed. She'd spent a considerable amount of this time with Draco Malfoy and yet seemed to have no problem with it at all. At the time.

She'd also stopped going down to earth so frequently on her search for the body. Her recent anger at him had made her annoyed and she was afraid that if she carried on she'd miss something in her rage. Plus at the moment he could just fuck off.

Standing outside Zena's door, just opposite her own, was Zena herself, a small handbag over her arm (apparently she had been told only to take personal things - Hermione assumed the clothes would follow just as they did with her transition from earth). Hermione didn't know what to do, and they both stood awkwardly for a few moments, neither wanting to look the other in the eye and say their goodbyes.

"Listen, I'm really going to -"

"I'm sorry I'm leaving you -"

Both girls started talking at the same time and stopped with a nervous laughter, before Hermione threw her arms around Zena and hugged her tightly.

"I'm going to miss you," she said, not bothering to hide her tears from Zena this time.

"I know. I'm going to miss you too," she replied, hugging Hermione just as tightly.

As they parted, Zena looked at Hermione seriously.

"You're going to be ok, you know that? Trust me on this. When have I ever been wrong?" Hermione laughed at this, trying to wipe away her tears at the same time.

"No, on a serious note though. You will be ok. You'll be more than ok. I know how happy you could be, Hermione, if only you realised it yourself."

"What are you talking about?"

"I think you know, Hermione. Don't pretend that you don't. There's something you're going to have to realise before you can be truly happy. Try not to hide away your feelings."

Before Hermione could reply, Zena locked her door for the last time and gave Hermione another hug. "Don't miss me too much. Find someone else to talk to. I'll miss you, but I'll see you soon, I promise."

Hermione watched silently as Zena left her, walking along that corridor towards that lift which would go down and take her away forever. Well, what would feel like forever. She choked slightly, fighting back her sobs.

In her own defence, Hermione had not cried in a long while. She often berated herself for doing so, as she often did in her first few months here, and tried as much as she could after that to stop herself from crying, but locking away her feelings didn't always work.

Realising that she was now staring at an empty corridor, she turned round to go back into her flat and saw that the occupant of Sirius's old room had finally emerged - and was standing very close to Draco Malfoy to one side of the corridor.

He was leaning in close, whispering something in her ear, and Hermione heard a high-pitched giggle. The girl flicked her long blonde hair over her shoulder, shaking it so it glinted in the light. Hermione knew immediately that this girl was from Beauxbatons.

Draco seemed to be aware that Hermione was in the corridor, and he most certainly hadn't been there when she had entered it, and neither had the girl. As she had turned around she had noticed him glancing at her but he quickly looked away before whispering to the girl.

Hermione tried to wipe her face quickly before he looked up again but to no avail. He glanced, and then did a kind of double take when he saw her crying, but Hermione slammed the door to her apartment before she could see anything else.

Just who the hell did he think he was? That girl had barely been here a month or so and was most likely still grieved, and there he was pulling the moves on her. Hermione was disgusted.

Not that it bothered her. Obviously. Why would it bother her? It didn't.

Did it? It was probably just the fact that he wasn't talking to her, but deemed that blonde bimbo appropriate of his time. Hermione felt stupid. He wasn't even worth it anyway.

But oh how she missed him. She had never once thought in her entire life that she would ever miss Draco Malfoy but boy did she. And she had a feeling she would even more now that Zena had gone.

Draco pushed himself away from the girl and told her to go back into her room and not to speak to him again. He tried to ignore the surprised and slightly hurt look on her face as he slammed the door to his own room.

He didn't really want to speak to her anyway. When he'd seen Hermione in the corridor and the blonde girl had entered too, he saw the perfect opportunity to wind Hermione up. He'd seen her and Fred getting close so now she'd have to get a taste of her own medicine.

However he was more than surprised when he glanced up and saw Hermione wiping her mahogany eyes, and he did a double-take. Was she _crying_? Her friend had gone, presumably back to her room or something, but Hermione was crying in the middle of the corridor. Draco went to go after her, but her door was shut with such force a draft pushed itself along the corridor and through Draco's hair.

He wasn't sure what to think of Hermione Granger. Sometimes she was lovely to him and made him smile. Sometimes she would just turn on him and get angry for no reason and he didn't know what he'd done wrong.

Draco would have never mentioned it, but sometimes, late at night or early in the morning, he heard her crying in her sleep. If he could, he would have gone in every time and woken her up, but there was no way for him to get in there. Their bedrooms backed onto one another and he could hear her cries through the wall that separated them.

He wondered what she was dreaming about. Was it the horror that occurred at Malfoy Manor? Was it the battle of Hogwarts? He hoped, whatever it was, that he was not in the dreams. Just as they were starting fresh, he didn't want her to be reminded of all the things he'd ever done to her.

Oh, if only he knew, thought Hermione. If only he knew that she would wake in a cold sweat, crying and her heart beating so fast she thought it would never slow. All those horrid memories of all those horrid things he had said and done to her. In between these memories she would have nightmares of the final battle and all the things she had seen before she entered that corridor with Lucius in.

Just who did Draco Malfoy think he was messing her about like this? She kicked her bedside locker in anger and shouted "Dick!"

"Fuck," she hissed, pulling off her shoe and clutching her now painful toes. "What did I do that for?"

In the next room, Draco was paused, waiting for another sound, but none came. Oh dear. She wasn't very happy with him.

**There you are! Also, I've nearly finished writing a little one shot, would anybody be interested in reading it?**


	23. Chapter 23

**Thanks for the really kind reviews! Here's the next chapter**

Four weeks later, Hermione made her first trip to Malfoy Manor since before Zena left. She was bored out of her mind and she felt that sitting alone in her room would just make her bitter.

She had only just managed to remember where she had last finished off and as she appeared, she realised she was nearly three quarters of the way around. Surely it must be around here somewhere? It couldn't be all the way at the end.

She tried to keep all her thoughts about Draco and Zena and Fred out of her mind so she could concentrate properly on searching, but they just kept creeping back in.

Hermione had been missing Zena a lot in the time she had been gone. She had tried visiting Fred a few extra times, but he seemed content now and she didn't feel like she could help him any more. He was much happier, and couldn't help thanking Hermione every half an hour for her help in making him speak to George. She had no idea what they had said to one another, but she knew they'd found some closure.

Something caught Hermione's eye as she searched, and she had very nearly walked past it. She gave a strangled gasp and stumbled forwards. She had found it.

It had been thrown over the wall just as Draco had said, but it was not buried or hidden. Hermione guessed that his decomposition would have happened very quickly due to the exposure to air and wildlife, and so the bones must have been lying in the same place for months, untouched.

She dropped to her knees next to the pile of mud which held the bones, and stared at the skeleton, both horrified and fascinated in equal measure.

This was Draco Malfoy. Of course she knew he was up in 'Limbo', but to Earth, this was all that was left. However she shuddered as she examined the shape more carefully.

His skeleton had been cracked, and judging by the shape it looked like somebody had stamped on his head. Similar could be said of his snapped ribs. His legs were twisted into impossible positions and broken in several places.

Hermione felt sick. She could not have been more glad as she realised that Draco had been dead before this horrifying attack occurred, but to do this to a dead body? The Death Eaters were more disgusting than Hermione thought. It was a small comfort that most of them were now dead, or otherwise stuck in Azkaban prison for the rest of their miserable lives.

Now what did she do? She and Draco were not speaking, so she couldn't just barge in and say "Oh by the way, I've found your body, wanna see?"

Hermione decided not to tell him yet. She would wait until they were speaking, or when the time felt right, or - well. Just not now.

She sat cross-legged next to the _thing_ for about an hour, her chin resting in her palms and her eyes glazed over. This was the weirdest thing. Everything that had happened to her in the last 7 months - well, she couldn't have made it up if she tried. It was completely ridiculous, and sometimes she wondered whether she would wake up and it had all been a dream.

Standing up and sighing, she looked around and memorised exactly where the place was so she would be able to return, and then felt herself being pulled up again like a vacuum.

As she walked down her corridor towards her apartment, a neighbour she had made polite conversation with one or two times was leaving his - and his brow furrowed.

"Hermione," he asked. "Why are you covered in mud?"

Hermione started, and looked down; sure enough, where she had been kneeling and sitting on the forest floor, her jeans were filthy.

"I - er - fell over," she muttered quickly. "Must go and wash them before they stain, nice to see you Philip!"

She rushed into her room, not seeing Draco peering curiously out of his doorway. Jumping in the shower and throwing her dirty clothes into the wash basket, she scrubbed frantically, trying to wash away all the disgusting thoughts of torture and death.

Hermione hoped that this would not bring on more of her nightmares. Recently, she had stopped dreaming about Draco. There had been one of two more, but once they got to her sixth year, they pretty much stopped.

Hermione remembered how drawn Malfoy had been that year as he continued with his task. He barely spoke to her, or anyone, and was pale and thin. Almost ghost-like. She shivered as she remembered her last dreams.

_Hermione was climbing the stairs towards the seventh floor, her arms laden with books for the two-foot essay Snape had set on a particularly nasty potion that left the recipient with seven extra limbs. Why did Snape have to set such ridiculously long essays? Of course she could complete the work, but it was so tiresome and she would have to look over Harry and Ron's too._

_Sighing, she turned a corner, only to walk into Draco Malfoy. He looked distressed, and the dark circles under his eyes were only more noticeable against his pale white skin._

_"Malfoy?"_

_He looked up, startled, and paused. "Leave me alone, Granger," he snapped, before starting off again._

_Hermione was confused. What was up with him?_

_"Malfoy, what's wrong with you? Are you ill or something?"_

_He stopped and turned again, and he truly looked awful. Annoyance flashed through his eyes and he stepped towards her. _

_"I said to leave me alone, Granger. Don't meddle in things you don't understand."_

_"How do you know I won't understand?" Hermione said defiantly. "I'm cleverer than you!"_

_Draco laughed, probably the first time he had done so in months, and sneered at her. "There are things you can't learn in books, Granger," he said, looking at the heavy tomes in her arms. "I said leave it. Understood?"_

_And he strode away, his features becoming worrisome once more._

That was near the beginning of Sixth Year. If she thought he looked ill then, it was nothing to how he looked at the end.

_Draco fell to the floor outside of the Room of Requirement, exhausted and close to tears. He was so close to finishing this stupid cabinet and yet it would take him at least two more weeks. He didn't know how much more he could take._

_Hermione was so tired, having spent the last three hours in the library researching counter-jinxes. She was definitely not showing her research to Harry because he would likely show Ron, and there was no way she was helping him in any way. She could see him getting annoyed with Lavender following him around everywhere but didn't attempt to help - he didn't deserve it, and she in fact found it rather funny._

_She laughed to herself and then stopped short as she heard a desperate sigh - and when she found the source of the noise it could not have been anyone worse._

_"Leave me alone, Granger," he repeated, his words the same as they had been months ago._

_"I know you're up to something, Malfoy, and it doesn't seem to be going that well. Of course, Harry's ideas are a little far fetched, but he was right. You are up to something. What's going on?"_

_"Like I can tell _you_," Malfoy said, getting up, but there was nothing behind it. He seemed drained and emotionless._

_"You can!" Hermione exclaimed, running behind him as he walked away. "You know the Order can help you, and your family if needs be -"_

_"Just stay out of it!" he said through gritted teeth._

_Hermione tried to speak to him a few more times, but he didn't respond and she stopped and watched him walk away. His entire body looked ready to collapse and his mind didn't seem too healthy either._

_Just what was going on with Draco Malfoy?_

Little did she know that she would find out only weeks later and their beloved Headmaster would be killed.

Hermione sighed. After that the dreams had ended. Because after that fateful day, she realised, his taunting had ended.

**Also, I'd just like to let you know I've uploaded a little one shot so head over to my page and take a look if you're interested :)**


	24. Chapter 24

**I'm so grateful for all your lovely reviews, they make me smile every time I read them and realise people are really following the story :) here's the next chapter!**

Hermione was delighted to realise the countdown to Christmas had begun. In the centre they had erected a huge Christmas tree next to the golden fountain and Hermione was reminded of the twelve Christmas trees Hagrid used to put up every year in the Great Hall.

Every corridor in her apartment block was decorated with tinsel, and there was even a sprig of mistletoe in each of the lifts (Hermione had taken to using the stairs after these popped up). The cinema began playing Christmas films, Christmas music was played in each of the shops and she even saw one or two people buying wrapping paper already.

She was a little saddened as she remembered the few cosy Christmases she had spent at Hogwarts: her second year, when she had completed the Polyjuice Potion and accidentally turned herself into a half-cat; her third year, when Harry had received his Firebolt; and her fourth year where she had been taken to the Yule Ball by Viktor Krum. There was of course the holiday she spent with the Weasleys too in her fifth year - and last year...

Last year, she and Harry had taken that fateful visit to Godric's Hollow that had resulted in Harry's wand being snapped. Hermione had never felt so guilty in her life when she had to tell Harry what had happened, and ignored the pang of loss she felt every time she handed her wand to him to use, because she knew he felt much worse without his wand at all.

And those holidays she and her parents had spent together. Her mother and father doted on their only daughter, spoiled her, loved her more than anything in the world. Hermione could not begin to imagine how they were going to deal with the Christmas alone - although they had spent Christmases without her, this time she was really gone.

And how was Hermione going to spend her Christmas this year? She ought to get Fred a gift, and she could spend a little time with him. And Christmas wouldn't be Christmas without a turkey dinner, even if she had to eat it by herself.

She would have liked to spend a little time with Draco, but they still weren't speaking. She'd forgotten why they'd fallen out in the first place, but now she was just half annoyed that he wouldn't make the effort and talk to her, and half sad because she missed him. She missed his laugh, his jokes, she even missed the way he joked about himself being some kind of god. She doubted he missed her though.

Christmas shopping it was then.

As Hermione wandered around the Centre, something white flew past her eye. She looked up, and grinned. It was snowing. 'Limbo' seemed to have the perfect weather appropriate for each season, snowing when it was supposed to and being hot all through the summer months.

She found a perfect gift for Fred, and saw a lovely dress she would have liked to buy for Zena, but had to remind herself that Zena wouldn't be coming back. Instead Hermione bought herself a pretty floral tea dress and made her way to the counter, only to find somebody already stood there.

Draco had his back to her, so she tried to be as quiet as possible so he wouldn't notice her there. He seemed to be waiting for a shop assistant, because there was no-one behind the till and he looked a little impatient. Hermione sighed, knowing this could be a long wait, and then silently cursed herself when Draco looked around at the noise.

He looked awkward for a moment before turning around again. Hermione's heart sank a little involuntarily. Why couldn't he just talk to her? What was it that she had done wrong?

Draco sighed. He wanted nothing more than to strike up a conversation but he didn't want to say anything in case she ignored him; she didn't look very happy. He turned around again to face her, but then bottled out of speaking.

Hermione raised an eyebrow, and seemed to realise he wasn't going to say anything. He was just leaning against the counter top, his arms crossed and legs outstretched leisurely.

"Where's you girlfriend then?" she asked, trying to sound mocking and not as if it bothered her.

"I don't have a girlfriend, Granger," Draco said coolly, although inside his heart was thumping. "Why are you so interested?"

"I'm not_ interested_, Malfoy," Hermione snapped, crossing her arms. "Just surprised she isn't following you around everywhere like a lost puppy."

"I've already told you, I don't have a girlfriend," he repeated irritably, turning around as the shop assistant came back with a gift-wrapped box and apologised for the wait. "How's your boyfriend?"

Hermione looked outraged that he had tried to turn the conversation around to her, and as he paid the assistant she said through gritted teeth, "I don't have a boyfriend either, Malfoy. I told you that ages ago, but it seems you can't get that into your big, stuck-up head."

Draco merely raised an eyebrow at her as he turned to leave, and Hermione was left irritated because she had wanted to scream and shout at him because he hadn't talked to her for so long and she wanted him to know how much it annoyed her. And how much she missed him.

No, she definitely wouldn't have shouted that.

As he left Hermione felt a waft of air brush past her face, and it smelled undeniably of Draco's scent. How did she even know what he smelled like? Had she been paying that much attention?

And then, like she'd stuck out her wand arm for the Knight Bus, it hit her. She _fancied_ him.

"Oh, _God_!" she wailed loudly, burying her face in her hands to hide her embarrassment. The shop assistant, who had been waiting for Hermione to walk up to the counter since Draco had left the shop, looked slightly alarmed and glanced around to see if anybody else had noticed.

Hermione shuffled to the counter and paid for her dress, her cheeks burning all the while. Nobody else knew what she'd just realised, but she felt as if every person she walked past in the street on the way home knew her little secret and were laughing at her.

She fancied Draco Malfoy. At first she thought that she missed him because they'd simply spent a lot of time together, and they were really the only people they both knew. But she had had this inexplicable attraction to him... She remembered the time he had opened his door in just a towel, all wet and steamy, and he looked _so _good. Hermione blushed at the thought, still walking through the streets.

But it wasn't as if he'd ever fancy her anyway. Sure, he didn't think of her as a Mudblood any more, but she was still a bushy-haired bookworm. He wasn't speaking to her. And she had most likely just messed up any chance of him talking to her any time soon by asking those questions as if she were some kind of jealous girlfriend.

Hideously embarrassed, Hermione did not leave her apartment for two days, until she ran out of food. She scolded herself for being so silly; I mean, it wasn't as if anybody knew she fancied him, was it?


	25. Chapter 25

Before Hermione knew it, she was opening her eyes on Christmas morning. She immediately turned on the TV to see what was on, and what time the Queen's Christmas broadcast started. She giggled to herself. This was weird.

The smile fell from her lips as she realised why. It was Christmas Day and she was spending it all alone. No happy, busy redheads. No sugar-free snacks from her parents. No Mrs Weasley cooking. No books from Harry and Ron.

Sighing, Hermione got up and went into the kitchen to get herself a mince pie. Knowing she would have to go at some point, she decided to go and take Fred his present.

"Hermione, this is amazing!" Fred shouted excitedly, as he opened his gift. Hermione had bought him a huge box of Muggle magic tricks, knowing how much he had enjoyed seeing them and selling them in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. She laughed as he started rifling through them all and clutching the instructions excitedly.

"Thank you again for mine, Fred, it really was thoughtful," Hermione smiled. Fred had bought her a book (am I that predictable? thought Hermione), but it was called _Everything You Ever Wanted To Know About The Afterlife_. It was absolutely huge - Hermione bet there were a million and one things in here she didn't know already, and everyone knew how Hermione liked to know everything.

After an almost tearful goodbye, knowing that Fred would be spending Christmas Day down on earth watching his family (Hermione could not bear to do the same), Hermione made her way back down to her own apartment, only to find a large box outside her front door with no note on the top.

She glanced around, but there was not a soul in sight, so she opened the door and pulled the box inside excitedly, beginning to tear it open, before stopping suddenly. Her cautiousness she had gained on the run had not entirely left her and part of her wondered if this was some sort of joke from Will; she had certainly not been expecting any kind of gift from anybody else.

Cautiously, she pulled the lid of the cardboard box open to find it full of shredded paper. She rolled her eyes. There was probably something really small right at the bottom that she had to find. She stuck her hand in and felt around, before pulling out a small box she recognised from somewhere with a note attached to the top.

_Hermione_

_I'm sorry that we're not talking still. I'm sorry if I've upset you and I want you to know that I want to be friends again if you're not still angry at me. Then again, you always seem to be angry at me, so I hope we'll be friends again anyway. I miss talking to you._

_I was buying this for you the other day when we bumped into each other at the shop. I thought that if we weren't speaking to each other by now then this could be kind of like a peace offering. I hope you like it._

_Love_

_Draco_

Hermione's eyes widened and her heart was beating frantically. He had bought her a gift? He wasn't mad at her? He missed her? He said '_Love_ Draco'?

She ripped off the note and opened the box immediately. She gasped. Inside was a beautiful golden necklace with a diamond pendant. Simple, but beautiful. Was this _real_? Knowing Draco, everything he bought was real, so this must have cost a fortune. Not that it was a problem to him, of course.

Still clutching the box with the necklace, Hermione jumped up and raced out of her apartment towards Draco's door, which she discovered was open as she turned the handle. She ran straight in, making Draco jump up off the sofa (where Hermione noticed he was watching the Queen's broadcast) in surprise.

"Hermione!" he said, a little stunned at her sudden appearance. "Oh, you found it."

Hermione couldn't even begin to explain how good it felt to see him smiling at her once again and she threw her arms around him and hugged him tightly. For a moment she felt embarrassed at her sudden actions, as he was stood surprised, but soon he pulled his arms around her and hugged her tight, one hand holding onto her soft, sweet-smelling curls.

"I missed you," he whispered.

"I missed you too," she whispered back, glad he could not see her face.

He pulled back and glanced at the box in her hand. "Do you like it?" he asked.

Hermione nodded, smiling. "Put it on for me?"

Draco took the box from her hand and carefully took the necklace from the cushion as Hermione turned around and lifted her hair up from her neck. She saw Draco's hands pass the necklace through her arms before they brushed against the back of her neck doing up the clasp. Like when they had been lying together on the bed, Hermione was not used to such an intimate gesture, and she shivered, before talking again to make herself feel less uncomfortable.

"I didn't get you anything, I feel awful," she said, biting her lip and turning to face him again. Draco laughed.

"It doesn't matter," he said, brushing his blonde hair from his eyes.

"No, it does," Hermione insisted. Suddenly, something came into her mind and her heart began to race. It wasn't a gift, but she had been doing it all for him.

"Actually... There's something I want to show you," she said, glancing around. "You're not busy, are you? We need to go somewhere."

Draco shook his head, confused. "What, now?"

Hermione nodded. "Please? You really need to see this."

Sensing the serious undertone in Hermione's voice, Draco nodded and allowed himself to be pulled along as she dragged him outside into the snow. He shivered, and saw the large building looming towards him that could only mean one thing - they were going down to earth.

"Hermione, seriously," he said, slowing down. "I haven't been down there since the time I saw you at Hogwarts. I -"

"Please," Hermione said, pleading with her eyes. "Just trust me, ok. Do you trust me?"

He hesitated, and Hermione could see a glint of fear in his silver eyes, before he nodded reluctantly and followed her into the building. She took his hand so he would arrive in the same place she did, before he felt the vacuum sensation once more.

As Hermione opened her eyes again, she noticed that it was not snowing heavily here like it was in 'Limbo' - in fact, it was not at all. The ground was covered in a silvery frost, and Hermione thanked the gods that it didn't snow much in Wiltshire.

Turning to find Draco, she looked into his eyes. "Do you recognise where we are?"

He was glancing all around, as if trying to place himself. He took note of the forest, and then of the large wall that he was bound to recognise. He looked straight at her, the fear in his eyes evident once more.

"What are we doing here?" he demanded, almost angry in his fear.

Hermione was a little alarmed, but understood that this was the last place he wanted to see any more. "You said you trusted me."

"You know I do, Hermione, but you're going to have to tell me what I'm doing here before I leave."

"Ok, ok!" she breathed quickly, beginning to get frightened at his seriousness. He seemed to realise, because his face softened a little. "I told you there was something you needed to see."

She moved forwards and held out her hand, waiting until he took it before leading him a few metres to the right and towards the wall. There it was, standing out against the dark, frosted earth beneath it. His body.

She heard his intake of breath, felt his hand slip from hers as he stumbled forward and stood, staring at his broken and twisted skeleton. He rubbed his forehead suddenly, as if seeing the boot-shaped crack in his skull was making him ill.

Hermione felt awful. Was this the right thing to do, making him come down here? She was only trying to help. She thought if he'd seen his final resting place that he could have closure and be content, but actually seeing him next to his own body brought tears to her eyes, and she did not bother wiping them away as the spilled down her cheeks.

"I'm sorry, this was a stupid idea, I -"

"How the hell did you find this?" he asked, his voice thick. He sounded as if he was crying.

"I - I've been looking for a while," she whispered, embarrassed now, thinking he was angry with her. "I thought you needed to see it before - before you went on, you know."

He nodded, and she saw him trying to wipe his eyes before he turned around.

"Why are you crying?" he asked, moving towards her and wiping a tear from her cheek with his thumb.

"It's just awful," Hermione said, closing her eyes at his touch.

"It's ok," he said. "Really. I wouldn't have felt any of it anyway. I was already dead. I have my own father to thank for that," he added bitterly.

"So do I."

"What do you mean?" Draco asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Lucius finished me off," she whispered, staring down at her feet. "I don't know why I didn't tell you before, but I just couldn't. I was trapped under the rubble from an explosion, and my leg snapped out of my skin. It was bleeding everywhere, and he used _Crucio_ on me. He'd stunned Bill Weasley so he couldn't help me, and I died of blood loss..."

Hermione looked up. "Why are _you_ crying?"she asked, repeating Draco's words. She leaned up this time to wipe his tears away.

"I'm so sorry. I should have finished him off before either of us died. If I had -"

"- then we wouldn't be here right now, would we?" Hermione interrupted. "We would have probably never spoken again. But I'm glad we have. Merry Christmas, Draco."

Draco looked at her, and Hermione became increasingly aware of how close their faces were to one another. He was still crying a little, silently, and he closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against hers as he tried to calm himself down.

"Come on," she smiled sadly, taking his hand. "Let's go home."


	26. Chapter 26

**I finally hit 100 reviews, yaaaaay! Thanks guys :)**

"You remember ages ago, before we fell out... Why was Fred threatening you?"

Hermione and Draco were sat opposite one another on Hermione's bed, cross-legged and with a couple of books laid open between them, illuminated by the bedside lamps. Draco looked up from his copy of _Pride and Prejudice_ and looked surprised.

"That was ages ago," he said.

"Yeah, I know," Hermione said. "But you never did say. You said that you deserved it, but you never said what it was about."

Draco sighed and closed his book, and seemed to be struggling internally as to whether he should tell her or not.

"He was warning me to stay away from you."

"What?" Hermione asked, her face screwed up in confusion.

"He said that I would never be worth your friendship and that I should just quit while I was ahead. He said that I would never mean as much to you as he or the other Weasleys would, which is kind of true really. No, it is - how long have they been like a family to you? Years. He had a good point. But he went about it the wrong way. I don't know why he thought violence would be the best way to get it across to me."

"I think," Hermione began, "before he went to see George, the things he'd never got to say were taking over him. He even got angry with me sometimes - he was like a completely different person. But he's just the same as he was before now; he's slowly getting better because he's got everything off his chest. And just think about it - he'd never seen you since he'd left school in fifth year. And what a bloody awful boy you were then, too," she added.

"Yeah, I know I was," he said, pushing his blonde hair back awkwardly. "But I already said I was sorry. I'm not expecting him to forgive me or whatever. Just not to attack me in corridors or my own flat."

"I guess so," Hermione said, picking at a piece of fluff on her sleeve. "He shouldn't have threatened you. But you are my friend, so he can't be that right, can he?"

Draco smiled, knowing she was trying to cheer him up and make him feel worth something.

"You know, I was jealous of the Weasleys for the longest time," he admitted, before laughing at Hermione's astounded face. "They love each other so much. They're like one big unit. They'd do anything for one another... I don't think even one person has ever loved me so much. It's probably why I used to mock their family to Weasley - I was jealous that they had each other so I focused on the material things I had to make myself feel better."

"I'd never have thought of it that way," said Hermione, her eyebrows still raised in surprise. "There's so many things we didn't know about you. I can imagine, without Voldemort, we might have been friends."

Draco had shuddered at the use of Voldemort's name, and Hermione had to resist the urge to roll her eyes like she used to with Ron. Draco seemed to sense this, for his eyes narrowed slightly.

"Don't look at me like that. I had to live with that monster inside my own home. There was no escaping him and the things he would do to me and the things he would make me do. You have _no_ idea."

Hermione's heart seemed to wilt a little at the look he was trying to hide. It was true - all those years of assuming he enjoyed going along with Voldemort's schemes and yet she never had any proof. Now she thought about it, the way he'd started acting in Sixth Year should have given it away; the toll it was taking on him was entirely visible.

Draco sighed and twisted his body to lean backwards against the pillows. "Sorry for snapping," he said, rubbing his face tiredly with the palms of his hands.

"Don't be silly," Hermione said. "Do you want me to tell you what it was like for me at home?" she asked softly, sensing he wanted to change the subject.

"Sure," he said quietly, nodding a little and stifling a yawn.

"My mum and dad were - are - dentists. They're people who make sure that Muggles' teeth are cleaned properly and there are no holes in them. So every Christmas I would get boxes of sugar-free snacks that wouldn't rot my teeth. I was an only child, so my parents loved me more than anything else in the world - Christmas this year, and New Year's, were so hard without them. They were the nicest people you would ever meet, but I had to remove their memories during the war and I sent them to Australia. I knew the address, and I asked the oldest Weasley brothers to, if I didn't make it, go and remove the charm on my parents so they could come to my funeral. They reversed the charm in time, and they were able to make it..."

Hermione trailed off and stared into space for a moment, before realising that Draco had fallen asleep and smiling tiredly. She removed the book from his lap and put it on the floor next to the bed with her own, before laying back too and feeling her eyelids slide shut immediately.

_"Fine," sneered Lucius, his eyes narrowing. "We can see where your loyalties lie. Oh, the Dark Lord will thank me for this! I will be his favourite. _Avada Kedavra_!"_

_"No!" yelled Harry at the same time, realisation dawning upon his face._

_The moment seemed to slow down to a millionth of its natural speed. As the jet of green light erupted from Lucius' wand, Dobby appeared behind Harry, Ron and Hermione with a crack that could not be heard over the roar of the spell. The light hit Draco in the stomach with such force that he was thrown backwards onto the ground, sliding backwards only to still in front of the trio._

_"No!" Hermione screamed, tears blurring in her eyes. Draco's head was thrown back, his face filling her vision. His eyes were filled with tears, but the look upon his face made Hermione cry._

_He had the look of someone who knew their time was up. He looked defeated. He looked like someone who cried themselves to sleep at night, who wished nothing more to be a completely different person._

_"No!" Hermione screamed._

"No! No no no no no!" Hermione screamed, tears escaping her closed eyes, her arms thrashing about and getting tangled in the sheets.

"Stop, Hermione," came a voice, the person shaking her gently and trying to hold her wrists still. "Calm down. It's just a dream."

Hermione's eyes flew open suddenly and she sat bolt upright, breathing heavily and tears now streaming down her face. She caught sight of Draco's worried face and half-sobbed in relief, remembering how they had both fallen asleep earlier after reading.

"You're... You're..."

"What happened?" he asked gently, patting her back soothingly.

"Just - memories... I get them when I sleep - not had one in ages..."

"I know you do," he whispered. "I can hear you in the night through the wall, but I can never do anything. Do you think you'll have any more after this? If they'd seemed to have stopped..."

Hermione fell back into her pillows again, her breathing returning to normal. "I don't think so.. I - I think that'll be the last one."

From what she could discern, she'd been having flashbacks in her sleep of traumatic encounters with Draco, and they followed from her First Year at Hogwarts right through until he died. She didn't think she'd be having any more dreams like these. She made a mental note to put the dream into her Pensieve the next day so it wouldn't reoccur in the future.

"Are you sure you're ok?" Draco asked, falling back too.

Hermione lifted a shoulder in a half-shrug, embarrassed at her reaction and not trusting herself to speak. As they both settled down in the darkness to sleep once more, Draco's hand reached out across the sheets and took hers tentatively. When she didn't move away, he shifted onto his side and closed his eyes.

Hermione's heart began to beat twice as fast as she felt his soft touch on her palm. This was weird, but she definitely liked it, and his touch calmed her from her panic about her dreams. Half-asleep and without realising, she rolled over so she was facing him, inches from his chest. Automatically his arm slid around her waist and he pulled her closer, before sleep overtook them completely.


	27. Chapter 27

For the first time in a long while, Hermione was truly happy. She and Draco began to go for their daily coffees again and spent time together reading or watching the television. Hermione particularly enjoyed getting Draco into TV series' like Dexter - "but I don't understand - how has nobody realised?" - and making him watch girly films - "but she said she didn't like him! Why can't she make her mind up?"

It was during one of these walks into the centre for coffee a few weeks later that Draco and Hermione passed the blonde girl from Beauxbatons who was living on their floor. She glared unashamedly at Draco, and even more so at Hermione. Hermione fought back a giggle at the murderous look on the girl's face and put on her best fake smile. The girl's face reddened in anger and she stormed past in a flurry of swishing hair and French cursing.

"You really pissed her off, you know," Hermione said, raising an eyebrow.

"Ahh well," Draco said dramatically. "I'm sure she'll live."

Hermione laughed despite herself. "You know, these life and death jokes are really wearing thin!"

"Really? Because, if I'm not horribly mistaken - and _do_ feel free to correct me if I am - but I do believe that you just laughed," said Draco, trying to hide his smirk.

"Oh ha ha. But anyway, I don't fancy getting death stares every time I walk past her. It's not that pleasant. It's not like _I _did anything wrong."

"Oh no, Little Miss Perfect," Draco grinned. "But yeah, I probably shouldn't have done that. I was just trying to make you jealous anyway."

"I - you - what?" Hermione spluttered, and Draco roared with laughter. He thought it best to get this admission out in a humorous way so as not to make things awkward.

"Because we'd had an argument about you and Weasley. I thought I'd be really mature and try and wind you up, but then you were crying instead."

"Oh, yeah," Hermione smiled awkwardly. "Don't worry, that wasn't because of you. My friend Zena had just left. You know, to 'go on'."

"You should have said something before!" Draco sighed, as they turned a corner. "Do you ever wonder what it's like, when you 'go on'?"

"All the time," Hermione said, kicking her feet through a puddle. "I wonder if I'll be happy, but then it's heaven, and I thought everyone had to be happy in heaven."

"I don't think that's possible. I think everyone's life will be much better off in heaven, but it can't guarantee permanent happiness. If it did then I think I'd die from excitement. If that were possible."

Hermione smiled, and they continued to walk in silence, both deep in thought.

"I've always wondered why I've never encountered Remus or Tonks or any of the other battle victims up here," Hermione said suddenly. "The only people I knew were you, Fred and Sirius. The others must be here somewhere, but why have I never seen them?"

Draco looked at her thoughtfully. She had a good point. "I think this place is much bigger than we realise," he said. "And I think we've dealt with everything a lot better than a lot of other residents. Remus and Tonks probably spend all of their time together. They're probably still grieving for their son. And all the other victims - well, I just don't know. Perhaps they're just on the other side of this place. Lucky, really, that you ended up next door to me."

"Well, you call it lucky..." Hermione began, grinning when Draco pushed her shoulder playfully. "Ok, ok! It was lucky!"

Hermione looked up from her feet to feel her heart suddenly drop into her stomach. What was _he_ doing here? Why did he keep bumping into her? Surely he should be in his office doing _actual_ work or something.

They were in the centre now, and Will was strolling along the pavement ahead of them, his hands in his pockets and a confident sway in his walk. Hermione wanted to walk right up to him and smack that smug little smile right off his face.

She knew Will had spotted them when he smirked to himself. She felt Draco tense beside her and placed her hand on his forearm to keep him calm.

"Well well well," he said, sounding just as dull and obnoxious as when he had harassed Hermione and Zena. "Look who we have here. I see you don't have your silly little weirdo friend here this time. Who on earth is going to fight your battles for you this time?"

Draco narrowed his eyes and Will laughed. "Oh, I see," he smirked, glancing down at Hermione's hand on Draco's arm. "Never would have thought you'd have it in you, Hermione. Have you actually checked what's under that sleeve?"

At this, Draco tried to push forward to attack Will, but Hermione pushed him back.

"He's not worth it," she said, before turning to Will. "What _is_ your problem? Not found any new pretty little girls to seduce lately? I think you're getting withdrawal symptoms from being a massive prick to women."

She allowed herself to smirk at the slightly surprised look on his face; he certainly wasn't expecting her to come out with that. She continued.

"And I thought we made it clear, my _"weirdo"_ friend and I, that you should never come near me again? Don't think I'm lying. I _will_ report you now. Everything. And don't start with the 'nobody will believe me' bullshit. I have witnesses, and I know for a fact that you did the same thing to a girl who lives on the floor above mine last week. She'll back me up. Just leave me and Draco alone."

"Oh, sure I'll leave you and _Draco_ alone," Will grinned. "Although I'd watch your back when he's around. You'll never know what he's up to behind your back, Leopards never change their spots, do they?"

Draco's pale skin was flushed with anger, and he moved forward again, flexing his knuckles angrily. Hermione pushed him back again, but when she heard Will laughing obnoxiously behind her at Draco, she turned on the spot and threw a punch -

She'd known since Third Year she could throw a good punch. It seemed she still retained that skill today.

Will was staggering backwards, blood pouring from his nose and down onto his front. Draco was stood with his mouth open in shock before he joined Hermione in a cruel laugh of justice. Will Mack had just had his nose broken by a girl - and he had no magic to heal it. Of course there was still magic around, but he wouldn't have permission to use a wand.

He looked up at her through his hands, trying to stop the blood flow but covering his hands in the process. "You fucking bitch!" he spat, blood splattering from inside his mouth. "Who the fuck do you think you are, Mudblood?"

Faster than you could have said Quidditch, Hermione had given Will a swift, strong kick to his most prized possessions and spat at his feet.

"Fuck you," she said, disgusted, before grabbing Draco's hand and pulling him quickly away. They didn't slow down until they were sat on a bench right in the middle of the centre next to the golden fountain.

"Are you ok?" Draco asked, his face concerned and angry. "Honestly, that man is the most idiotic buffoon I have ever had the displeasure to meet."

"I'm fine," Hermione snapped, still a little angered. "My hand hurts a bit though. He's got a big nose," she added, with a smile.

Draco chuckled, his anger abating, before picking up her hand and observing her knuckles.

"I don't envy him right now," he smirked. "I know what it's like to be on the end of your right hook, although that seemed much more painful. Bloody hell, you must have hated me that much once."

"Oh for goodness' sake, Draco," Hermione sighed. "Please stop thinking about what I used to think. Or what you used to think, for that matter. That's not what matters now and bringing it up only makes you feel bad. Ok? I don't care about the past."

Draco didn't know what to say other than to nod. She didn't care what he was like before. Up here, they had started anew, and he couldn't be more grateful. He rubbed her sore knuckles softly before pulling her up off the bench.

"Come on," he said. "We need to forget all about that idiot. How about we go and watch one of those film things at the cinema? That is what it's called, right?"

"Yes, it is," Hermione grinned,checking her watch. "Ok then - why not? I'm sure there'll be something on, it's nearly five."

"Let's go then! Quick march!" he ordered, pulling her by the hand so she had to run to keep up, leaving a trail of laughter in her wake.

**Hello guys! You will all be pleased to know that I have just finished writing the story! Only 6 more chapters left, so please leave a review if you want to see the ending! :) i have had over 3,000 views in the last 10 days alone, and altogether 125 reviews. thank you to all who have favourited/followed/reviewed and i'll try and get the next chapter up quickly!**


	28. Chapter 28

There was a long debate in the lobby of the cinema as to which film they were going to watch, but eventually Draco gave in and Hermione laughed in victory.

"I knew you'd give in," she grinned, dragging him through to the screen and sitting down.

"I did not _give in_," smirked Draco. "I was being gentlemanly!"

Hermione raised an eyebrow, fighting down a smile. "Oh were you now? Really? Because if you ask me, I think you just gave in..."

The pair laughed as they threw popcorn at one another before settling down to watch the film. It was some romantic comedy film - predictable, but still funny. Now this was the kind of film Hermione enjoyed, not some sci-fi action thriller like the one Will had made her see. She shuddered involuntarily as she remembered what he had done, and how Draco had saved her in the alleyway. That all seemed such a long while ago.

Draco noticed her shudder and put his arm around her, before checking if everything was ok. Not wanting to bring up what had happened all those months ago, Hermione nodded and snuggled into his shoulder. When he'd put his arm around her, her heart had nearly leapt out of her chest and she was sure he'd be able to hear it - if only he knew!

A couple of hours later and the pair of them were stood outside the cinema in the dark, stretching their unused limbs and cooling down from the heat inside.

"That was a sweet ending," said Hermione, doing up her jacket to shield her from the cold.

"Sweet? Please," Draco scoffed. "Could it have been any more predictable?"

"Oh shut up you," she grinned, taking his arm as they strolled away.

There was a long silence between them as they made their way home, both clearly deep in thought. Hermione was smiling to herself; she hadn't been so happy in a long time.

"I can't believe that fucking arsehole said those things to you," Draco said suddenly, as if he had been thinking it over and getting angry.

"Well, let's not worry about it now. I got him back, didn't I?" Hermione replied, flexing her knuckles and smiling.

"Hermione, he called you a Mudblood!"

Suddenly, to hear that word come out of his mouth once more, even if he was only saying it in passing, caused Hermione's heart to ache as she remembered all of the things he used to say to her. By saying that word he was blurring the line she had distinguished between 'Draco' and 'Malfoy'.

"Don't say that word again," she hissed.

Draco looked taken aback. "I wasn't calling you it!" he said, horrified. "You know I wasn't -"

"Please," Hermione said, her eyes threatening tears. "Just don't say it!"

She began to run, desperate to get home in case she did burst into tears, but she could hear his heavy footsteps chasing after her and she knew that she'd have to face him eventually and tell him what she was on about.

"Will you wait_ up_?" Draco breathed, exasperated, as they got to the lobby of their building. She turned. "What is it with you? One moment we'll be getting along amazingly, brilliantly, and the next you'll be snapping at me - why do you hate me so much?"

Hermione snapped, and she was now openly crying in front of him. She wanted to smack herself in the face for crying but she couldn't well do that without looking like a mad woman.

"You want to know why I hate you?" she sobbed angrily. "_Fine_! Come on, I'll show you!"

She stamped all the way up to her apartment, with Draco following, confused and concerned, close behind.

When he stepped through her open door she was already rifling angrily through her drawers whilst taking off her jacket, throwing out pieces of paper and pens and odd bits of jewellery, muttering curses to herself, fully aware of how crazy she looked.

Finally, with a triumphant sob, she pulled out what she had been looking for and thrust it at Draco so quickly that, had he not had Seeker's reflexes, he would have dropped it.

"A Pensieve?" he said, baffled.

"Go on," she sniffed. "Look at it. Go on!"

He looked a little alarmed, but sensing it was best to do as she said, he set it down on a table top and glanced at her before immersing himself in her memories.

Hermione took this opportunity to lay down on her bed, curl up on her side, and finish her crying before he came back. She thought she'd distanced it, she thought she'd removed that part of Malfoy - but looking at Draco's face and hearing him say that word confused her poor brain. What if he was like that again?

Of course he wouldn't be, Hermione scolded herself. She knew how much he had changed, she knew that he was totally different; in fact, it was almost as if he'd had a personality transplant. But he still looked the same - and Hermione needed that reassurance that he would never be that spoilt little boy ever again.

Draco was inside her mind. He was living through all of those memories that she had woken up to angrily or upset. Watching himself. Watching her. Watching himself put her down and make her cry and make her - well, that was just the one time, but he still would see her do it, see her make those angry cuts bloom across her stomach.

She couldn't cry any more. Her face was stiff, and she had run out of tears, and she just didn't want to move.

Suddenly, there was a loud noise as Draco emerged from the Pensieve and dropped himself into a nearby chair. Hermione could hear him breathing heavily, and after a few noises that could definitely have been sniffles, Hermione wondered if he was crying. She didn't move.

Draco got up and strode round the side of her bed, before crouching against the wall just beside it, looking right at her. She didn't look up.

"What the hell am I meant to say to that?" he said hoarsely. Hermione's eyes flickered up to meet his. She could see tears glistening in the corners.

"I'm so sorry," he whispered. "I didn't know you were still thinking about these things. I - I -"

He stumbled over his words, not knowing how to say the things he wanted to say. He'd never felt like more of a bastard in his life.

"- I never realised what the things I said did to you. I was stupid, I was horrible. I can't believe you'd ever do that -"

"I only did it once," she said, barely audible. She still didn't move.

"Let me see," he demanded, wiping his eyes. "Let me see it."

When she continued to lay still, he took this as his cue to look for himself. Crouching in front of her, he lifted up the hem of her shirt gently and she heard his breathing hitch. They weren't horrific, the scars, but there were still some there. And they were all his fault.

She felt his fingertips glide over them gently, and she had to hide her shiver. She wasn't sure whether it was because he was touching her or whether it was him touching her scars, but she had to hide it.

"Hermione," he began, and she noted that Draco used her first name. Still crouched down, he took her arms and pulled her up into a sitting position, her legs dangling off the side of the bed. "You know I will never be sorry enough to make up for this. But you have to know that I would never do anything like that to you again. Ever."

He looked up into her face and tried to show her everything he was saying was true. "I'll never call you that name or bully you or make you feel worthless. All those months ago when you went on that date, and I asked you whether he'd called you beautiful... Of course it would have been right for him to say that, but you did. You looked beautiful. You always look beautiful, Hermione, and I will never be good enough for you. But I'd hope that you'd give me a chance."

And before she could open her mouth to ask him what he was talking about, he tilted his head up and pressed his mouth against hers.

She wanted to protest, to get out what she had wanted to say, but she also knew she didn't want him to move away. His soft lips were sending tingles down her spine and making her heart flutter as his hand wound into her hair. She wanted to kiss him forever.

He broke away with a deep breath, his hand still caressing the side of her face, and she closed her eyes at his touch.

"You don't know how long I've wanted to do that," he breathed. There was a moment's pause.

"I really do," she whispered, placing her small hands either side of his face and pulling him up to meet her in a passionate kiss. She didn't know why she hadn't done this before, but now she'd had that reassurance, now she knew deep down that he would make her happy, she was going to make the most of every minute.

**Thanks for the great response to the last chapter! Well, it happened at last... Hope you liked it!**


	29. Chapter 29

"Wake up!"

Hermione, still half-asleep, mumbled incoherently and rolled away.

"Ah ah ah," Draco scolded, pulling her back to face him and wrapping her up in his arms. "I said wake up."

"Why is it so important that I wake up right this minute?" she muttered, her eyes still closed, snuggling into his warm chest.

"_Because_," Draco said, pausing for several seconds for what Hermione could only imagine was dramatic effect, "it's February 14th."

"And?" Hermione mumbled, still not opening her eyes, although she knew very well what day it was.

"Stop that nonsense, you know you can't fool me, you sleepy little know-it-all," Draco grinned. "It's Valentine's Day. And I organised something for you."

Hermione smirked into Draco's chest. "Hmm, did you?" she said blearily. "Oh, that's nice."

"Oh you want to play that game, huh?" he grinned. "Ok then, that's fine with me. I think I'll get up now."

And he rolled away, untangling his arms from Hermione as she tried to cling on to him, moaning when she was left with the cold duvet instead of his warm embrace. He laughed and went for a shower, knowing she would be up when he had finished.

"So where are we going?" she asked as soon as he stepped out of the bathroom. He smirked.

"Bit keen aren't you?" he asked with a wink. "What time is it? Two? Bloody hell, you sleep in late... Ok, I think we can go soon."

"I do not sleep in late!" she insisted, pulling on a scarf.

"Just because you don't have anything to worry about up here doesn't mean you can just get up whenever you want, Hermione."

"Oh will you shut up!" she laughed, throwing a cushion at him.

He took her hand an hour later and they left the apartment. Hermione couldn't believe what was going on with her life; first she'd died and come to some kind of heaven, and now here she was strolling hand-in-hand with Draco Malfoy like they'd never once hated one another. _If only Harry or Ron could see this_, she thought. _They'd be fuming!_

She gave a little giggle and shook her head at Draco's inquisitive glance. She was spending Valentine's Day with Draco Malfoy!

Since he'd kissed her four weeks before they had been inseparable. All that time apart had made them realise just how much they liked each other, and their relationship was going from strength to strength. Although Fred wasn't too pleased when he found out; he'd tried to attack Draco again and hadn't spoken to either of them since, which hurt Hermione a lot.

"So where are we going then?" she asked curiously, as they headed towards the shell of a building that took them down to earth.

"You'll see," he smiled. "Just hold onto my hand."

As she felt the travelling sensation fade, Hermione opened her eyes and found herself somewhere she'd been a million times but technically never at all; she was at Hogwarts, but she was on a little island in the middle of the lake.

"They're not bringing the students back until September, so it'll all be quiet," he said, smiling at her excited grin.

Draco took her hand, still not quite believing it was hers even after a month, and guided her towards a little clearing within a tiny copse of trees where a picnic blanket and a hamper lay. Hermione giggled excitedly.

"I've never had a proper Valentine's Day before," she admitted, a little embarrassed.

She blushed. Draco loved to see her blush. "Well there's a first time for everything," he said, squeezing her hand. "And aren't you just delighted that your first Valentine's is with me, Draco Malfoy, extremely attractive Slytherin?"

Hermione didn't know how Draco could always make her laugh deeply, but he did. They weren't nervous giggles, but full-on throaty laughs that she was sure couldn't be very attractive, but he didn't seem to mind. In fact, he seemed to like making her laugh as much as he could.

"Extremely delighted, Draco," she said sarcastically, rolling her eyes playfully.

They sat together on the rug and Draco opened the hamper. Truth be told, Hermione was starving, and she was glad Draco had brought all this food down for them to share, as well as a bottle of champagne. She wasn't sure how much he knew about romancing but he seemed to be doing pretty well so far - she imagined he'd done it before, and of course, he was raised as a gentleman.

"Can you imagine if we'd done this three years ago?" Hermione said a couple of hours later with a wry smile, popping a strawberry into her mouth. She was laid on her back, staring up at the darkening sky.

"I'd have probably been murdered," Draco said, and Hermione turned her head sharply to look at him, alarmed.

"I was joking, Hermione! Just kidding," he clarified, looking down at her nervously as she turned her head away.

"Really funny, Draco," she muttered.

"Oh come on," he said, comfortingly. "That's all over now. It's all over. The Dark Lord is gone, and all the Death Eaters have been killed or thrown into Azkaban."

"I know it's over, Draco, I'm not an idiot," she snapped, embarrassed that she'd started an argument and he was talking to her like a child, but her stubbornness wouldn't let her go.

Draco decided to try and put his aside. "Hermione Granger," he warned. "If you don't stop being a grump, I'll have to tickle you." 

"Oh don't you dare!" she said suddenly, jumping up and backing away. "I am not being tickled!"

"Got you up and out of your mood though, didn't it?" Draco said, flashing a dazzling grin. Hermione frowned and crossed her arms again.

"Oh come on," he said again,getting up and wrapping his arms around her waist. "Stop it, or I'll have to kiss you."

Hermione's heart fluttered. Well, if that was the threat...

"Bugger off," she muttered, trying to hide her smile, although she knew Draco would be able to tell.

"Right, that's it!" he declared dramatically, pulling her closer and lifting her head to meet his. She melted. He was kissing her softly but harshly at the same time, somehow, and she moaned into his mouth.

"Well someone's enjoying that, aren't they?" he grinned against her lips, and she let out a slightly flustered breath.

"Maybe I should be grumpy more often," she whispered, making Draco's eyes widen slightly before he patted her behind and winked before breaking away.

"You definitely should," he said, gesturing for her to follow him. She frowned, taking the same route as he had moments before and wondering what he was doing. It was getting very dark now, considering it was still only early February and they had been laying there hours. She pulled her jacket tighter around her against the chilly night air, and then gasped.

There, moored up on the shore of the little island, was a boat. It was small, but had room enough to fit the two of them laying down, and all around the bow there were flickering candles attached magically, giving a golden glow.

"I had a little word with Nick, and he got Hagrid to sort this out for us," Draco said with a smile, unsure of her reaction.

"It's - it's amazing," she breathed. "Thank you."

She threw her arms around his neck and caught his scent again. It was intoxicating.

He helped her into the boat and she found several thick thermal blankets at the bottom, one of which they laid on and a few more that they covered themselves with, protecting them from the cold air.

When the boat was floating serenely in the middle of the lake, Hermione turned in Draco's arms to gaze into his silvery eyes. He looked back into hers questioningly.

"This has been the best Valentine's Day ever," she smiled.

"Well that's what I was going for," he winked, stroking the hair around her face affectionately. She closed her eyes at his touch, peaceful for the first time in a long while.

"Happy?" he asked.

"Very," she replied, opening her eyes to stare at the glittering stars above her. Draco squeezed her tighter.

On their return home, Hermione bypassed her own apartment and followed Draco into his, just as she had done the night before. She liked sleeping in the same bed as him. It gave her comfort, and she knew for certain she would have no nightmares. Even if she did, he would be there to comfort her.

As they walked in, Draco noticed an envelope on the floor that had clearly been pushed under the door. He frowned and picked it up, tearing it open quickly and scanning it. His heart sank a little. He had known this would come one day soon.

"What's that?" Hermione said suspiciously.

"Nothing important," he said, tucking it into his inside pocket.

"Really," said Hermione, raising an eyebrow.

"Yes, really," replied Draco.

"You've had those before. I saw you with one weeks ago."

"Hermione, I'm allowed to get mail. Now come on," he said with a grin, picking her up suddenly and throwing her onto the bed. She giggled, swatting his tickling hands away, and forgetting all about the letter.


	30. Chapter 30

Hermione became increasingly worried over the next month. Although initially she had forgotten all about the letter, more came each week and Draco made sure that she never got to see what was written on them.

She genuinely couldn't think what they could be about, but she was getting suspicious. Surely it wasn't another girl - she had thought that Draco really liked her, but now she wasn't so sure, even if he was paying her the same amount of attention as usual. What was he hiding from her?

Around four weeks after their Valentine's date, a fourth letter came, pushed under Draco's door as all the others had. Hermione was lying on his sofa reading, waiting for him to come out of the shower, when she saw a flash of white slide along the floor.

Immediately she knew what it was, and put her book down as she glanced cautiously towards the bathroom door. She could still hear the shower going.

Twisting her legs off the side of the sofa and getting up, she padded softly across the carpet until she reached the letter, and picked it up. It was in a sealed envelope, addressed to a "Mr. Draco Malfoy."

Hermione stared at it for a long moment, debating whether or not to open it. It _was_ his mail, but then again, he shouldn't be keeping secrets from her. She didn't want to seem overly-attached, asking him questions about it all the time, so she gently slipped a finger under the envelope seal and slid it across.

Suddenly, a hand whipped in front of her face and snatched the letter out of her hands. She gasped loudly, her heart hammering inside her chest from the sudden fright.

"I'm fairly sure it's against the law to open other people's mail without permission," Draco drawled casually. Hermione turned to look at him walking through the doorway into his bedroom with the letter, still only in his towel.

"I wasn't going to _read _it, I was just -"

"- saving me the time of opening the envelope? You're a terrible liar, Hermione. I don't know why you even try."

"All right, I was going to read your mail!" she snapped, as he finished scanning the letter. "But I want to know what you're hiding from me!"

Draco looked up, the letter still in his hand, and met her eyes. He hadn't realised she was feeling insecure about their relationship, or about herself. He put the letter down on the bedside table, mentally reminding himself to get rid of it later, and walked towards Hermione. Her face was screwed up in what seemed to be an attempt at anger, but just made her look desperately insecure. Draco's heart melted a little. It made her look so cute.

"Listen to me," he murmured, taking her face in his hands and forcing him to look at her. "I'm not hiding anything from you, you haven't done anything wrong, I definitely don't want to break up with you, and yes, you are beautiful. Have I covered everything you were thinking?"

Hermione gaped up at him before blushing furiously and trying to move her head down to hide her red face, but his hands forced it up again. How had he managed to know everything she was thinking? Did he really know her so well?

"Come on," he said, smirking. "I know you want to laugh. I know you far too well."

Hermione tried to hide her face again, feeling the corners of her mouth turning upwards, but once more she couldn't. Draco gave a triumphant grin and captured her lips in a sudden kiss, making her gasp in surprise as his soft lips pressed against hers.

"You can't - just do that - every time - I disagree - with you," she breathed, in between kisses.

Draco pulled away momentarily. "I can and I will," he said matter-of-factly, before kissing her again.

Hermione was lost in the way he made her feel. With Ron, there had been this silly schoolgirl crush because he had been the only guy who had shown even the slightest (and this was Ron - it really was the slightest) bit of interest in her. But Draco... She had denied it for so long, only realising that day in the shop, and now here they were. Who would have known something so happy could have come from something so tragic as death?

She put the letters to the back of her mind for the next few days, and Draco was rather more attentive to her than usual, which was saying something. Part of her wondered if he was just trying to cover up the fact that he _was_ hiding something from her, but then she felt guilty for thinking so.

Hermione awoke in her room on Good Friday with the instantaneous feeling that something wasn't right. She rolled over in bed to shake Draco awake only to find that he wasn't there. In fact, his side of the bed was already made. She slid her hand across onto his pillow, but it was cold and had obviously been unused for hours.

"Draco?" she called to the apartment. Silence was her only response.

_Come on Hermione, it's fine. He probably just went next door to his own room. Nothing wrong with that, is there?_ she thought to herself.

_But then again..._

She got up and grabbed the first clothes she could find before throwing them on. She was surely overreacting, but Draco had never before left her to wake up alone. It just wasn't like him.

She scanned each room in her apartment just in case, and when she found nothing, she stomped out into the corridor and banged on his door.

"Draco! Draco, are you in there?"

Silence.

"Come on, open up! You weren't there when I woke up, and I panicked, and... Just open up."

Nothing.

Surely he couldn't be in there? He wouldn't ignore her. Her rational side was telling her that this was perfectly normal, he could have just popped out for some milk or something. However, her gut was telling her that something wasn't right - it was 6am, why would he have popped out for milk at 6am? He never woke before 8, and he would always be there when she woke up. And yesterday he had gotten three letters, none of which he had replied to, all of which he had burnt using the flame on the hob in the kitchen. She'd asked him what was wrong, but he snapped at her to mind her own business and kicked a chest of drawers in frustration. Hermione had refused to let him hold her when they went to sleep and had rolled away to the furthest edge of the bed because she was hurt that he took out his anger on her.

Hermione couldn't be bothered to knock any longer and just walked straight in, but her heart nearly stopped. Everything was clean and tidy, as if it were a hotel room. None of Draco's belongings were out, and the bed was made to perfection. The only thing that was out of place was the small waste bin in the lounge, which was knocked over. And, as Hermione spotted, had a torn up letter inside...

She rushed forward and picked up the two halves of the letter, placing them back together and scanning the text with increasing horror.

_Dear Mr. Malfoy,_

_This is your final warning that tomorrow is your Decision Day. We have sent numerous amounts of letters in the past two months, none of which you have dignified with a reply._

_We expect you in the Arrivals/Departures Office at 6am sharp. You will depart at 6.15am._

_Best wishes,_

_H. Judd, Head of the Department of Communications._

Hermione wanted to cry. Screwing up the letter in her fist, she stormed out of his apartment, down the corridor and into the lift with increasing anger.

How dare he? She knew he had been hiding something from her, even if this was nothing like she imagined it would be. He was _leaving_ today, and he was going to go without even telling her or saying goodbye!

When she was outside, she ran towards the white building she had been taken to when she first arrived, which she assumed was the Arrivals/Departures Office, and slammed the door open.

She could see his white-blonde head immediately. Draco was stood with his back to her in front of a large door, which was golden in colour. Next to that was another door of the same size, but which was dark brown in colour.

"How could you?" she screeched. Draco's head whipped around in horror at the sound of her voice, and he started towards her.

"No! You stay away from me!" she shouted. A woman who had been stood at a desk on the other side of the room slipped out of another door quietly. "How could you just leave without saying goodbye? Without even _telling _me?"

"Hermione, I -"

"I _knew_ you were hiding something! You promised me you weren't. I trusted you!"

"I didn't want you to worry about it!" he said. He looked pained. "I know what you're like. It's only a month or so until it's your turn anyway. But you would have made a big fuss of it, I know you would. I -"

The door opened and the woman put her head around the door frame. "Mr. Malfoy, it's 6.15. It's your time to go now."

He nodded at her and she shut the door again.

"I didn't want to have to say goodbye to you because it would have been too hard. It would have sounded like I was going away forever, when in reality you'll be joining me in a month anyway."

"How do you know?" Hermione challenged, crossing her arms angrily.

Draco's eyes widened and he stepped forward. "Hermione, you can't seriously be thinking of becoming a ghost? You're cleverer than me, and even I can figure out that that's the stupidest idea ever!"

Hermione looked affronted. "Of course I'm not, but don't assume you know me so well. When you promised you weren't hiding anything from me, were all the other things you said lies too? Am I ugly? Do you want to break up with me? Is that it?"

"No! No, god no! That's not it at all! Come on, you know I didn't mean to hurt you," he said pleadingly, reaching out and taking her hand.

"You kept all those letters from me! You could have _told _me!"

Draco was starting to get annoyed now. "I told you just now, I didn't want you to make a big fuss! You would have stuck your nose in and made a big deal of it like you always do! You just can't resist. You just can't mind your own bloody business!"

That hurt. "I _hate_ you, Draco Malfoy! I never want to see you again!"

Silence. Had she gone too far?

"Fine," he said, dropping her hand. And with that, he turned and opened the golden door, stepped through and disappeared. Hermione heard a big whooshing sound, and then all was quiet.


	31. Chapter 31

**Ahhh don't hate me! It had to be done! Have a 2000-word chapter to make it better...**

Hermione was lost. She didn't know what to do without him. Her days had revolved around him, the things they did together like going for coffee or to the cinema, and everything he said.

She was in love with him.

She had gone into his room to see if he'd left anything at all as a reminder, but the whole thing was genuinely empty, and Hermione knew that somebody knew would be along soon. Somebody would be living next door in _her _Draco's room. A stranger.

Of course she was still mad at him for what he did, not telling her he was going... But every time she tried to be angry with him, she just ended up missing him. And feeling ridiculously guilty about what she had said.

For two weeks after he left, she stayed within the confines of her own apartment moping. She couldn't find anything to take her mind off things; she would begin to read books and then throw them across the room in frustration after half a chapter, and browse through all of the TV channels yet find absolutely nothing that could keep her focused. Draco was all that occupied her mind.

She remembered not even two years ago his disgusting taunts, vile words and sneering looks. The way he looked down upon her as if she were dirt on his shoe. What on earth had changed? She remembered Sirius telling her that he hadn't believed in any of that stuff for a long time; had it been when he was set the task of killing Dumbledore? Surely even he knew that with Dumbledore gone the fate of the world would look very bleak indeed.

But then even if his beliefs had changed, how could his personality shift so? He was still stubborn as ever and liked to think he was always right, but he was also always lovely and gentlemanly. Now Hermione came to think of it, he must have been like that at school with the Slytherin girls, but of course he had been instructed to hate her, so that's what he did. When he broke away from those beliefs, he realised he could treat her like the normal human being that she was, and so he did.

Hermione sighed. She decided that she might as well make the most of the month or so that she had left before it was her turn, and turned to the most pressing matter at hand; Fred would still not speak to her. She felt that working back up their friendship was the most important thing within her control right now.

The first time she had knocked, he had opened the door, taken one look at her, and slammed the door in her face.

The second time she had knocked a week later, he opened it and glared at her as if to say "What?"

"Fred, we really need to talk," she'd said.

"Why don't you talk to Malfoy? As someone who's bullied us all for the last 7 years, I'm sure he'll be a great talker!" Fred said, his eyes narrowed. He slammed the door again.

It was taking Hermione a while to get through to him, and it was exasperating, but she understood where he was coming from. Draco had done nothing but mock Fred's family for 7 years, as well as Hermione and Harry, and constantly getting people into trouble, like Hagrid and Buckbeak in third year. She didn't expect Fred to like Draco; in fact, she didn't even expect him to talk to Draco. She just wanted him to talk to her again.

Third time was lucky. Another week later she knocked, and he opened the door and sighed.

"You're not going to leave me alone, are you?" he asked.

"No," Hermione said, offering a small smile.

Fred didn't smile, but he moved back to let her through and closed the door behind her. She took a seat at the kitchen table - she didn't want to make herself too at home on the sofa while they were still on such shaky ground.

"What do you want?" Fred said, crossing his arms.

Hermione was taken aback at the bluntness of his question. "Well - I just want you to talk to me again."

"I'm talking to you right now, see? Ok, you can go now."

"Oh Fred! You know what I'm talking about, stop being like this! What is _wrong_ with you? Where's the Fred I used to know?"

"Where's the Hermione I used to know? She would never date Malfoy!" Fred shouted back, almost desperately, as if he were trying to hold on to the past.

"I'm still the same girl, Fred," Hermione said quietly. "I don't know why you'd think I was any different. Just because my opinion of someone has changed doesn't mean I have, and I'm quite hurt that you'd think that of me!"

"Listen to me, Hermione. When we got here, I could barely stand it. You helped me get better, helped me to see George and put things behind me, and then suddenly, when you and _him_ started getting along, you forgot all about me, until you fell out with him again!"

Hermione was stunned into silence. As much as she had thought Fred's behaviour was out of order, he was right. She had thrown him aside like an unwanted toy, until Draco had stopped talking to her and she needed someone to talk to again. She hadn't realised at the time.

"Oh Fred," she said sadly. "I hadn't realised. You're right. I'm so sorry."

Fred looked a little surprised that she had agreed so readily, but then this was Hermione Granger, and she would nearly always admit and apologise when she was wrong.

"Don't think this makes everything all right, just by saying sorry," he muttered. Hermione frowned.

"Fred, what's wrong? I know you, and you never used to hold a grudge on someone. Have I done something else? What is it?"

Fred shook his head, but didn't say anything.

"Fred. Come on. It's just me."

Fred sighed, and Hermione noticed just how strange it was just to see him alone, without George.

"I liked you, ok? I liked you and then you fucked off and left me here alone for someone else."

Hermione was almost speechless. How could she not have known? "Fred -"

"No, Hermione," he said, cutting her off. "You left me here alone - for Draco Malfoy. To me, that makes absolutely no sense at all. What has he ever done for you that I haven't? Other than bully you and try to kill our Headmaster, of course."

"Now stop it!" Hermione cried, getting to her feet. "How dare you say things like that to me? He isn't like that any more! He's changed - just like you have! But _he _has changed for the better!"

"So I'm worse now am I? Well thanks very much!"

Hermione sighed, sitting back down at the table. "No, of course you aren't. Why do we do this to each other? Why can't we just be friends?"

Fred stared at her for a minute, trying to glare, but he just couldn't keep it up and dropped himself into the chair next to her.

"Let's just forget it, ok?"

"Yeah," she replied, smiling. "You know I would never intentionally hurt you, don't you?"

"I know," he sighed. "I was just angry."

"I know," she repeated his words back to him. "I'm sorry."

For the next week Hermione focused on rebuilding the friendship that had so nearly been destroyed. She and Fred would meet every day for lunch, whether at hers, his, or in town, and talked things over. She learned that Fred didn't like her that way any more, and they both agreed that he probably got over-attached because of his huge loss and Hermione was the only one there for him. She apologised again and again, trying to make things right.

"You know," she said one day through a mouthful of spaghetti carbonara, "we only have four days left."

Fred's golden eyes widened and he dropped his fork with a clatter, before picking it back up hastily. "Four days?" he hissed under his breath.

"Yes," Hermione said kindly, surprised that he had forgotten. "I wonder what it's going to be like when we're up there."

"Up there?"

Hermione looked up and into Fred's eyes, and she knew what he was thinking. "Oh Fred, you can't. You have to go on. You'll regret it."

"I can't leave them," he whispered, putting his fork down properly now. "I go and see them every day, even though they can't see me. You don't know what it'll be like when one day they'll be able to talk to me back."

"Fred, as much as your family love you, what will you do once they're gone? You can't go back on your decision once it's made. You're there forever."

"It's the same the other way! You're in heaven forever!"

Hermione appreciated his reasoning. "You're right, but would you rather wait a few decades for the rest of your family to join you, or would you rather go down and spend several decades with them now and then countless centuries without them later?"

Fred narrowed his eyes in frustration, knowing she was right. "Well it's my decision!" he said defensively.

"I know it is, Fred," she said kindly, putting her hand over his. "But please make the right one. Think about it."

All the way through these three or four weeks spent building her friendship with Fred, Hermione had a constant burning ache in her chest that wouldn't go away. She knew what it was, but tried to think of him as little as she could. She knew she would be seeing him soon, and thinking about having to wait only made her chest ache more.

She'd been getting letters similar to the ones Draco had been receiving, notifying her how long she had left before her decision was to be made - but she actually replied to hers. Of course, she had already made her decision, and went down to earth to visit all the places that meant a lot to her one last time. When she returned, she found herself crying at the prospect of never seeing any of these places ever again.

Decision Day dawned bright and clear, and Hermione took this as a good omen. She left all of her clothes and books and other belongings, having been instructed that they would follow her, and made her way upstairs to Fred's apartment. She knocked for five minutes straight, but there was no answer. She turned to leave, hoping only that he had already left.

The letter had also said that she had to return to the building she had been taken to the very first day she had arrived one year ago, and that was where she would be leaving from - the Arrivals/Departures Office. Just like Draco.

She crossed the quad near her apartment that led to the Ministry buildings, and was surprised to see somebody up and about so early, but her face split into a wide grin when she saw who it was. Will Mack had just left through the front doors of the Ministry building with all his belongings from his desk in a brown box; he'd been fired, and Hermione could bet that they weren't going to let him into heaven. He glared at her as he passed, and Hermione smiled back falsely before identifying the building she had to enter; taking a deep breath, she stepped inside.

Stood there, waiting by the golden door, was Fred.

"I made the right choice," he said with a smile.

**Guys, I hate to tell you this, but there is only one more chapter after this... and possibly an epilogue if you guys aren't satisfied with the last chapter! Thank you all for sticking with me :)**


	32. Chapter 32

The moment she stepped through the door, she was ripped upwards by a huge gust of air, just like the vacuum-like sensation she got when travelling to and from earth. Except this time, it went on, and on, and on...

Hermione was starting to feel queasy. When was this going to stop?

She fell to the floor with a sudden thump, and all the air was knocked out of her. Looking around, she found herself in some kind of foyer. There were tall, important-looking people sat behind desks in white robes signing paperwork with quills and stacks and stacks of parchment piled up next to them.

Fred was about 10 metres away, clearly having been winded too. Nobody was paying them the slightest bit of attention; this was clearly the norm.

Fred recovered first, getting up and giving her a wave before heading cautiously towards one of the desks. A kind-looking plump woman looked up from her paperwork and set about helping him with whatever he had to do now. Well that was a point - what was Hermione supposed to do now?

After managing to pull herself up, Hermione approached one of the desks like Fred had and said, "excuse me?"

The girl at the desk looked no older than Hermione herself, but she also looked rather bored. She too was scribbling away with a quill on parchment, but Hermione could see her doodling little love hearts around somebody's name instead of filling out forms.

"I'm busy, go away," she snapped rudely, without looking up. The man working at the desk next to her looked up in surprise at her rudeness and frowned when he caught sight of Hermione's shocked face.

"Ah! Miss Granger," he said with a smile, beckoning her over. "We've been expecting you."

Feeling much more welcomed, Hermione moved over to the man's desk, ignoring the girl's gaping mouth as she looked up and realised that she was Hermione Granger, war heroine and best friend to Harry Potter.

"I don't really know what to do," she admitted sheepishly.

"Not to worry, nobody does when they first arrive," the man said cheerfully. "Now, normally I'd have to search through this massive pile of paperwork to find out where I have to send you, but lucky for me somebody's come to collect you."

Hermione's heart leapt at the thought, and she strained her neck towards the door to see if she could catch a glimpse of that white-blonde hair.

"Just head out of that door over there, he should be waiting just outside."

Hermione thanked the pleasant man with a smile and rushed to the large door, throwing it open to reveal someone she wasn't really expecting.

"Oh! Sirius!" she exclaimed, trying to hide her disappointment - of course she was glad to see Sirius, but where was Draco? He hadn't taken what she said seriously?

"I know I'm not really who you wanted to see right now -" he began.

"No, I am really glad to see you Sirius. I've missed you," she insisted.

"Even so, I know who you wished it had been waiting outside. Don't get me wrong, I'm not offended at all. Hang on, we need to start walking. Oh, excuse me," he added, as he began to walk and bumped into someone. "Come on, Hermione."

They began to walk down a street much like the ones in 'Limbo', except everything was twice as bright and it seemed some aspects of magic worked here - a witch flew past on a broomstick carrying large bags of shopping.

"I don't know what you've done to him, Hermione, but whatever it is, it's not good," said Sirius grimly. Hermione looked up into his handsome face, astounded.

"I - what?"

"You'll see in a minute, we're nearly there," he replied, gesturing to a large, romantic-style house shining in the sun further down the street. "Ever since he got here, he's barely spoken two words to me. He just sits there in that bloody armchair all day until he goes to bed. Occasionally he'll be in a good mood, but I'd never bet on it. I don't know what's happened to him, but you need to sort him out."

Hermione frowned. It seemed that Draco had taken her anger in the heat of the moment seriously. Oh, he didn't really believe she'd never want to see him again? How could he be so stupid! After all the time persuading her to be more sure of herself, he was insecure too.

"I don't think he'll want to see me, Sirius," said Hermione sadly, shaking her head.

They were heading up the brick-paved path towards the large house now. It had shutters on the windows and pretty vines sprawling across the walls. It was like something out of a Muggle fairytale.

"Are you joking? I asked him what was wrong, and all he said was 'Hermione'. I asked him if he wanted anything, and all he said was 'Hermione'. I really don't know what you've done to the poor boy, Hermione."

Hermione felt guilt stabbing away at her like a knife. He'd been sat up here for a month waiting for her, wondering if she would come and see him, wondering if what she had said was true and she never wanted to see him again. She hurried through the front door of the house, and followed Sirius's gesture to a room at the very top of a spiral staircase. He left her to it with a knowing wink and wandered off somewhere on the ground floor of the house.

Each step up that spiral staircase was another thudding beat of her pounding heart. What would he say when he saw her? She pushed open the door to the room and saw the back of his head, sat in an armchair by the fire. She crossed the room.

"Draco?" she whispered, barely audible even to herself. She didn't know why, but the silence and the large room were creeping her out.

He didn't answer, and assuming he hadn't heard, she moved around to the edge of the armchair, seeing his hand on top of the armrest and reaching out to touch it.

"Draco?"

He jumped up suddenly, recognising her voice, and it gave her such a fright she nearly fell over. He was pale, paler than usual, and his face looked so sad Hermione felt like crying.

"I didn't mean it," she said, the words falling out of her mouth in a jumble. He looked relieved, and pulled her into the tightest hug she'd ever had, his face buried in the hair around her neck, breathing in her scent which he had missed for so long. She didn't miss the desperation in the hug, and she returned it with equal force.

"I'm so sorry," she mumbled into his neck. He didn't say anything, and everything was silent for a minute as they stood there, neither wanting to let go.

"I love you."

It slipped out before she could stop it. She hadn't even meant to say it out loud, but she had without realising. She heard his sharp intake of breath before he pulled back and she saw his mouth split into an unstoppable smile.

"I love you too," he replied. Anything else he might have wanted to say was cut off by Hermione throwing her arms around his neck and launching herself at him, smothering his face with kisses before meeting his mouth with her own. It felt so good to kiss him again; it felt so right to feel him next to her, as if they were two pieces of a puzzle fitted together.

Finally, _finally_, they had admitted it to themselves, and to one another. Hermione couldn't ever imagine having to tell Harry or Ron, or any of the Weasleys, or anyone from the wizarding world in fact, that she had fallen in love with Draco Malfoy, but that didn't seem to be a pressing issue for the time being.

It had seemed that Sirius had been trying to set them up all along, ever since Hermione had arrived in Limbo. He thought that Hermione would be good for Draco, and he knew that she would eventually give him a second chance. Hermione blushed at the idea of being read so easily but Draco just winked at her from across the dinner table, making her blush even more.

And so began their life in heaven.

A few weeks after they'd settled down into their routine, with Hermione and Draco staying in one room and Sirius another (Hermione asked many questions about why they had a house, whose it was, where did it come from... after the sixth question Sirius just told her everything at once with a roll of his eyes and a fond smile), Hermione came downstairs one morning and noticed several broomsticks propped up in the hall. She entered the kitchen to find Draco and Sirius already at the table.

"Why are there brooms in the hall?" she asked cautiously, her eyes narrowed slightly.

"Because I'm taking you somewhere," Sirius said with a smile. "Introducing you to some people I've managed to track down while I've been up here by myself."

Hermione's eyes widened in surprise. She hadn't really realised, but everybody that had ever died and not gone to hell was here. Everybody.

"I'm not getting on a broom," she warned. Draco chuckled, as if he had been expecting this.

"It's ok, you can come on with me. You'd only do a Longbottom if you went on your own."

Hermione laughed loudly at the memory of Neville's first flying lesson and agreed to share a broom with Draco.

"So, who are we going to see?"

"Wouldn't you like to know!" Sirius said with a smile. "But I know some people who really want to see you. Our first stop, Miss Hermione Granger, is the home of James and Lily Potter."

**And that, my friends, is the end of our story! Thank you all for reading, reviewing, favouriting, following... I hope you enjoyed it :)**

**I was debating whether or not to do an epilogue, but if enough people want one I might write one :)**

**Thanks again!**


	33. Epilogue

**Wow, that was a big response! You all wanted an epilogue, so here it is! I kind of already had an idea for one anyway but you all wanted one as well!**

Epilogue

"Pass the butter, will you Hermione?"

"Of course, Lily," Hermione smiled, passing the butter dish across politely.

"More? Butter makes you fat," said James with a wink, elbowing his wife. She turned to him, her green eyes narrowed.

"Well, you would know."

There was a collective "ooh"-ing sound from around the table, and Fred hid his hysterics behind the salt shaker. Hermione was trying her hardest not to let the corners of her mouth twitch, but she caught Draco's wicked eye from across the table and both burst into laughter.

"Oi!" James whined, mock glaring around the table and stabbing his turkey unnecessarily hard with his fork.

The laughter bubbled down to pleasant chatter and somebody else's elbow nudged Hermione in the ribs. She raised an eyebrow at the girl sat next to her.

"I always knew you two would end up together," Zena whispered, her dreamy eyes twinkling as she glanced at Draco across the table. "You were always making eyes at each other. Always arguing and then making up and then falling out again. All that sexual tension..."

"Zena!" Hermione hissed, mortified. She knew Draco had been listening from the seat opposite and she could see him trying not to smirk, his eyes on his fork.

"Just saying," Zena smiled, her eyebrows raised in innocence as she turned to strike up a conversation with Sirius. Hermione turned to look at Draco again, her cheeks flushed, and the blush only deepened when Draco shot her a sexy wink.

For a long time, many many years, Hermione could not find Zena anywhere; every time she was given an address she would arrive only to find Zena had moved on - she liked to travel around a lot. This dinner was the first time Zena had seen Hermione or Draco in about thirty years.

"Forgive me, but I do believe it's time for the crackers," came a voice full of mirth. Everyone exclaimed their agreement, much more excited than usual and filled with Christmas spirit.

A happy cheer went around the table as each of them pulled their magical Christmas crackers, and the man who had suggested the crackers was the most cheerful of them all, taking the tweed farmer's flat cap he had won and placing it on his head.

"Suits you, Albus," came a sarcastic, drawling voice from Dumbledore's side. Dumbledore looked round with a twinkle in his eye and looked at Snape with raised eyebrows.

"Do excuse me, Severus, but I fail to see your winning headwear perched on top of your head. You wouldn't want to ruin the tradition, would you?"

Snape narrowed his eyes at the flowery sun hat that had fallen from his cracker, and then glanced back at Dumbledore. "I think traditions can be broken, Albus."

"Oh, go on Sev," Lily encouraged with a smile.

Hermione's heart gave a little twinge. Having been told everything about Snape by both Draco and Dumbledore, she knew how difficult it was for Snape to sit at the same table as James and Lily. When Snape had "gone on", around the same time as Hermione and Fred, the man or woman he had approached at the desk had sent him straight to Lily's house. She had requested this, knowing that she had to explain to Severus that she didn't blame him for her death; at first, she had been exceptionally angry, but time had made her see reason and she understood that he would have never deliberately condemned her to death.

Hermione knew that Snape would never refuse Lily, so after a second or two of grumbling, he snatched the hat off the table and rammed it on his head.

"Wow, Severus..."

"... that really suits you..."

"...I think you should wear that more often..."

"...in fact, an entire wardrobe change to match would be heavenly..."

"Now come on, you two!" Hermione chided, although she was hiding a smirk. Fred and George had a lot of making up to do on the mischievous front, and who was she to hold them back?

George had suffered a heart attack at the young age of forty-five, and while usually that was easily healed through magic, he had been alone in the middle of the night and hadn't been found until his assistant came to open up shop the next morning. Fred had no idea that he was coming; here in heaven, you could request to be notified when certain people had entered Limbo, but upon his arrival, George had asked them not to tell Fred - he didn't want Fred waiting anxiously for an entire year.

Seeing the two of them together now was an odd sight; Fred was still the twenty-year-old youth Hermione remembered weaving through the crowds in Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, but George was a middle-aged man. He still had a full head of red hair, albeit with a very few grey strands here and there, but his face was more aged and lined. It was like looking at a young and older version of the same person sat next to one another.

Snape scowled and whipped the flowery hat off his head, snatching up Remus' own bowler hat beside him and swapping them over, before ramming the bowler hat onto his head. Remus gave a lop-sided grin and a shrug, before cheerfully putting the flowery hat on. Tonks giggled next to him, and her hair turned a darker shade of pink as she stared lovingly at her husband.

Even through his embarrassment, Hermione could see Snape fighting a smile; he was still himself, but somehow, up here in heaven, you couldn't really be sad. No matter how hard you tried, you were pretty much always happy. Life was good.

"By the way, Hermione, Minerva sends her deepest apologies," Dumbledore explained. "She would have loved to join us tonight, but she's spending time with her family."

"Oh no, I don't mind at all!" Hermione insisted. "That's just what I'm doing."

Dumbledore nodded at her proudly, and Hermione could have sworn she saw his eyes water a little as he turned away. She smiled.

"Looking good, Draco," Hermione teased as she got up to scrape off her plate. Draco had ended up with a swimming cap, and he looked ridiculous.

"Why thank you, dear," he smirked, getting up and moving towards the sink with his plate too. He lowered his voice. "By the way," he murmured, making sure everyone else was in conversation. "Keep that hat. We could use it later."

Hermione's eyes widened and she blushed. Her cracker had contained a Muggle nurses' hat, the kind that came with a costume, and she knew exactly what Draco was implying just five feet from the dinner table.

He winked at her again, and she slapped his arm before turning back to the table and announcing loudly, "It's time for the Christmas pudding!"

A hearty cheer erupted again from the table, and Hermione's heart filled with emotion. Here they all were, united in death, not long to be joined by their old best friends like Harry and Ron, and her parents, and Mr and Mrs Weasley, and -

She could go on forever. It was hard; as each year passed up here it became more and more like a waiting game, just waiting for loved ones to live out their time on Earth before joining you forever. Hermione couldn't wait to tell her parents that she had got married. Of course, she would have loved them to be there, and Harry and Ron too, but she didn't want to wait fifty or sixty years to be married to Draco.

Fiddling with the beautiful diamond ring on her finger, Hermione remembered the day as if it were yesterday. In heaven, everything seemed twice as beautiful, and this was no exception. It matched no ceremony she had even heard of on Earth, and of course, she ended up married to the boy next door.

She wasn't looking forward to explaining her marriage to her two best friends, but she couldn't wait to see the looks on their faces. Ron would most likely assume an expression appropriate of a goldfish, and Harry - Harry would just stand there and try and figure out if he was hearing voices again, telling him insanely unlikely things. She giggled at the thought.

"What are you laughing at?" whispered a voice in her ear, as a pair of arms slid around her waist from behind her.

"Nothing," she murmured contentedly, watching as the table tucked into their Christmas pudding, and Zena tried to avoid being sprayed with crumbs due to Sirius's awful eating habits. "I just - I'm so happy right now. I wish I could take this moment and keep it forever."

Draco squeezed her tightly. "You'll have a million and one more, Mrs Malfoy."

She felt a grin spread across her face. No matter how many years she'd had of hearing that, it never failed to fill her stomach with butterflies. She twisted around to face him and placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"I do hope so, Mr Malfoy."

**And that is it! There will be no more to this story. Thank you all for your support and reviews and everything! You've all made me so happy :)**

**Oh and also, just to let you know, I'm changing my pen name! This one (sarahah) was just some quick one I thought up when I created the account and I'm changing to a much better one (alisajudd)**


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